


dance to remember

by no_reservations



Series: whiffs of colitas [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst and Humor, Blood Drinking, Fantasy, Horror, M/M, Multi, Vamp problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:16:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 39
Words: 50,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_reservations/pseuds/no_reservations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> </p><p>Who knew a simple camping trip would lead to this?</p><p> </p><p>A careless hand had knocked over the first domino, and click and clack went all the rest... circling and circling... towards an ominous center he couldn't see.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm not ready," he pleaded. But who ever was?</p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part three of whiffs of colitas. Please read in order and save yourself the confusion. Or at least a little bit of it.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, loosely based on "Hotel California" by the Eagles.
> 
>  
> 
> Alright dolls, let's blow this joint...

 

 

 

"Bloody hell, my skin looks fantastic!" Zayn scrutinized himself in the mirror, turning his face this way and that as the light glinted off his cheekbones.

 

Niall lowered his eyes, a bit embarrassed. It might have been a little unorthodox to give the boy a vamp blood facial... but he had to admit, it did do wonders for the skin.

 

The boys had arrived a fortnight past, to find only Niall lounging on the porch and holding up the fort so to speak. Simon had whisked Harry off to who knows where, assuring him they'd be back soon.

 

So here he was, trying to keep three human boys entertained. They'd already exhausted his movie collection while laughing at his outdated taste, and marveled at the relic of a gaming system he had lying around. Things had a way of moving so quickly when you weren't looking, but their input was somehow a refreshing breeze on his psyche. Keeping him connected with the world, and whatnot.

 

"Niall, you are awesome!" Zayn nuzzled into his neck while drawing him into a hug and tickling his sides. He had to laugh at the playful antics, blowing a raspberry against his neck in turn.

 

Zayn giggled against him, drawing away from the fingers that were closing in to retaliate.

 

"Come on, it's time for brunch." Niall pulled at his wrist, drawing him towards the door. The boy went along willingly, a grin on his lips.

 

 

They made good use of Harry's structural improvement. The sun was just coming up over the horizon, and the table was spread with the grocery's finest. Niall placed a canister of tea in the center before letting himself down on a deck chair and slipping on his shades.

 

Zayn poured himself a cup while rolling a joint, needing to start the day off slow. The other boys were already smothering their rolls with butter and homemade jam, munching and moaning at the taste. Niall had to smirk to himself as he recalled Harry's recipes. Rum and blood seemed to be featured in most of them.

 

Easy banter filled the air and he sighed to himself, accepting Zayn's blunt. These mornings had quickly become a sort of tradition for them, and he was quickly forgetting that there had ever been a time before them. Waking up alone, in this oppressing expanse of a place, having breakfast by himself as the grey skies stormed at the windows. His memories were filled with dismal days that never did seem to get light, followed by endless nights.

 

Louis cracked a joke and the boys laughed, nearly chocking on their breakfast. Niall picked up a piece of smoked salmon, letting himself momentarily indulge in the taste. He had to be careful, he knew, but sometimes it was worth it. It slid against his tongue, salty and rich, and he moaned to himself.

 

"If you open the connection you'll be able to enjoy it all," Louis quipped at him, dropping capers onto his salmon. Niall glowered at him, trying to restrain himself. He'd never tried to initiate something like that by himself and he wasn't sure if he was really ready to. But the thought of being able to taste it all...

 

He opened himself and reached out, pulling a bit awkwardly, but the boys had been conditioned and seemed to all but readily leap into his hand. Louis took a bite, taking his time to relish in the taste and Niall groaned, feeling it at the back of his tongue.

 

Louis smiled at him, taking another bite, and Niall's eyes were close to rolling into the back of his head.

 

A wash of orange drowned out the salmon, and he looked to his left to find Zayn grinning sheepishly around his glass.

 

"Shit guys, this is so weird," he murmured out, taking another pull from Zayn's joint. He passed it to Liam who was looking down into the dregs of his tea.

 

"Right." The boy took the smoke and sucked on it fleetingly, before quickly passing it on. Niall could feel his turbulence through the connection. They had come here to make a decision after all, and without Harry and Simon, they were still waiting. He didn't know what they had decided on, or if he had any factor in it, but he had a sick feeling that it had already been made.

 

He looked up and bathed in the rising sun, trying to commit at least this one perfect moment to memory.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

"Again."

 

Harry struck the girl, hard across the face. Her head snapped to the side with a satisfying crack, but she just took it, breathing hard as she let it hang.

 

"Again."

 

He repeated the act without hesitation, secretly reveling in the sting against his knuckles as they connected with her soft skin.

 

"Again."

 

A third time, and this time she snapped her head up after it, baring her fangs and hissing at him. He met her gaze coolly as his left hand played with a blade. Her eyes dropped to the light flashing off it, and she struggled against her bonds while growling at him.

 

"Ready to repent yet?" He smiled at her sweetly while flipping the blade over his fingers. She just hissed again, fury flashing in her eyes.

 

He had to restrain an eye roll at the sight. These vamps were really all the same, so much vain bravado and unbridled superiority complexes – running amok amongst helpless humans and feeding on them as if they were their own personal herd of cattle. Thinking they were entitled to taking their lives just because they were the superior species, or whatever they deluded themselves into thinking.

 

Simon had spent the last two weeks showing him the ropes, deeming him finally ready to join the family business. Though Harry had yet to figure out just what that business fully entailed. He seemed to be unaffiliated; a freelancer of sorts, a mercenary, swooping in when called to clean things up a bit when needed for the various vamps in charge. All very under the radar and with the utmost discretion of course.

 

Which was what they were currently doing with hissy over here. It was most likely child's play as far as Simon's usual jobs went, which was probably why he'd let Harry have a go at it.

 

As he stared into her angry eyes, so full of contempt and indignation, he toyed with the thought of bringing the knife down right into the center of her pretty little hand. But the pain would probably only rile her up more, stoking the fire inside of her bent on tearing human flesh apart just for the thrill of it.

 

He ran the sharp edge against her cheek and she leaned into it, challenge in her eyes. A small trickle ran down the metal, the deep red seeking out his fingers. Yes, this path would never do. He removed the blade and brought it to his lips, running his tongue along it with a smirk while his gaze remained locked with hers. She narrowed her eyes.

 

Harry looked over his shoulder at Simon, who was standing in the shadows in the corner, looking on dispassionately. At Harry's silent question he just nodded. "Go in," was all he said.

 

Harry's head whipped back to the girl, the gleeful joy that was shining on his face momentarily giving her pause. Her eyes flicked to Simon and then back to Harry as he leaned over her, putting the knife away and coming to brace himself on the hands bound to the armrests. Some of the bravado slipped from her eyes as he continued to smile down at her.

 

He opened the connection, letting it curl out like wisps of black smoke all around him. When the first came to lick at her skin she flinched, eyes going wide.

 

"No." She struggled against the bonds, trying to mentally retreat from him. He just continued to grin down at her, reading the signs of panic that were starting to rise.

 

He pushed on, and she retreated further, probably trying to toss up walls to keep him out. But he was too strong for that now, having finally been reconnected with his entire self. Tendrils flicked up her arms and she squirmed as they scorched her skin; carrying promises of burning up something else entirely.

 

"No," she tried again, closer to a whimper this time. Her fangs had retracted and she looked up at him pleadingly. Harry tried not to laugh out loud. She was going to be a poster child for blood bagging after this.

 

He nudged and prodded, teasingly, letting her feel the void, the darkness – so very eager to move in and consume her. Her body spasmed, before being racked in uncontrollable shivers. It knew of what he spoke, even if her mind could not fully comprehend it. It knew, and it knew that it was a fate worse than death. No easy out, no gentle release. No, just something far, far worse.

 

He smiled at her kindly as he twirled her fluttering thread around his mental finger, and pushed in. And she screamed.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

Niall groaned into his pillow, wishing he could just spend the day in bed. But he could hear the boys milling around downstairs already, desperate for action. And he was fresh out of ideas.

 

Maybe he could talk them into painting the house? That should keep them occupied for a few hours at least. Though chaotic visions of the boys flinging more paint on each other than at the walls quickly came to swim before his eyes and he groaned again.

 

Speaking of chaos, he really wished he could convince them to clean up a little after themselves. Especially Louis and Zayn, those two seemed to be walking tornadoes of messiness. Not that he was a stickler for cleanliness himself, but it really was starting to get a little out of hand.

 

Slowly crawling out of bed, he could feel every year long past 16 creaking in his bones. His vision swam a little as he pulled on a robe and headed downstairs.

 

Blood, he really needed some blood came the realization. It really wasn't something to start neglecting, especially when considering his current company. Maybe he'd been too busy keeping them entertained to really let himself think about it, and in some odd way he was actually pretty proud of himself. But once the thought skimmed back to the surface, it bounced back again, all at once with the deafening echo of an addict.

 

Reaching the cooler, he grabbed two bags before letting the top slam closed again. He sank his teeth into the first, taking a long pull as he stumbled towards the kitchen. The liquid was cold and thin against his tongue, the dull metallic clang of it providing little enjoyment. But it got the job done, even if hovering barely above the expiration point.

 

He dropped the empty bag into the trash and slumped down at the kitchen table where the boys were already enjoying breakfast. They'd had to waylay their pleasant brunches outside more often than not recently as the weather turned towards fall. Today promised to be another day filled with silver light and roaring winds.

 

He bit into the second bag, groaning a little as his body started to respond to the liquid. It made it taste not so hollow, instead letting him know that this was exactly what he needed. It rewarded him with pleasantly warm tingles as the liquid spread through his system.

 

Niall was continuing to suck slowly, basking in the feeling, when he realized that the kitchen had gone painfully quiet. He snapped his eyes open to find all three of the boys staring at the bag in his hands, eyes wide with a varying mixture of shock and horror.

 

"Umpf." He hastily withdrew his fangs, managing to spill some blood on himself in the process. Wiping at his chin he blinked back at them a little mortified, trying to will his canines to retract. They stubbornly refused to, and his senses unhelpfully noted the boys' accelerated heart rates, pumping oh so much tantalizingly fresh blood through their young virile bodies. If anything his fangs dropped down a little more.

 

Fuck. Niall wanted to slap himself and run from the room to hide in a dark corner somewhere. He'd become so accustomed to having them around in pretty much all stages of the day, that it had somehow completely slipped his mind that feeding in front of them was still something of a taboo. And here he was plopping down at the goddamn breakfast table while munching on some nameless donor.

 

"Ehhh, shhorry?" he tried to lisp out between his fangs. Why wouldn't the damn things retract already! He tongued at the sharp points while he gave them a sheepish look. The boys just continued to stare at him.

 

The blood meanwhile continued to seep out of the puncture holes he'd made, not helped by the tight grip he had on the bag. It would soon start running down his arm like a melting ice cream cone if he didn't do something to stop it. He looked at the boys again, who now seemed transfixed at the drops running over his hands. Liam looked pained. Zayn looked slightly high. And Louis was running his tongue along the corner of his mouth.

 

Shrugging to himself, he brought his arms up to catch the escaping rivulets with quick swipes, before licking clean his hands and closing his lips over the puncture holes. He tilted his head up as he squeezed the bag a bit and swallowed, feeling his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion as he closed his eyes.

 

The scent of arousal hit his nose from across the table, and he cracked his eyes open a fraction to give them an amused glance. Liam was white-knuckling his coffee cup, staring intently at his neck. Zayn was shifting on his chair a bit, grinning back at him coyly. And Louis looked about a second away from leaping over the table and plain out ravishing him.

 

He suppressed a chuckle as he slurped out the last of the bag, the plastic crinkling in his hands. Getting up languidly, he stretched and yawned, before slinking over to the trash and tossing it in.

 

"So, what do you boys feel like doing today?" he asked, running the tip of his tongue over his now short and stubby canines. The boys just continued to blink at him, looking momentarily unable to respond.

 

He raised an eyebrow, sighing to himself. "I guess we could do a bit of cleaning today? Come on, I'll show you where the stuff is at." He left the kitchen, expecting them to follow. There was a moment's silence, before he could hear the scraping of chairs. The blonde may have grinned to himself.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

 

"Please, no more," the girl sobbed out brokenly, tears running down her cheeks.

 

Harry looked down at her, coming to cup her face with one hand as a tear ran along his thumb.

 

Simon move to stand in the shadows behind her, silently mediating the session. He had to marvel at the boy, at the progress he'd made. This kind of thing usually took weeks, but here they were, barely 20 minutes in.

 

The spotlight shone down on the pair, casting the boy in an ethereal glow. Like a fallen angel, equal parts savior and damnation. A being torn to sunder and reborn by fire, carefully rebuilt by crashing waves.

 

He couldn't give himself too much credit, for he had acted on an impulse and it had mercifully proven to be right. The time Harry had spent free of his past had allowed him to gain the strength to harness it, instead of being controlled by it, like the unfortunate creature he was currently tending to had been. Now he just had to keep a careful watch to keep the perilous balance in place.

 

"You're going to stop." Harry wiped away her tears and she nodded, the unspoken threat not lost to her. She was shook with tremors again, but leaned into his touch, all but melting into it.

 

Simon gave a nod to the guards watching through the one-way mirror, and they entered the room quickly. Harry stepped back as they released her bonds and dragged her from the room, never breaking eye contact with the girl. She looked back at him the whole way, until they dragged her out the door. They could hear her sobs echoing down the corridor before the door finally fell shut.

 

Harry closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths as silence filled the interrogation chamber.

 

Simon let him have a moment before he spoke, "Ready for one more?"

 

Clear green eyes met his, startling bright in the floodlights. The boy nodded, before moving into the shadows. Simon nodded towards the mirror and door opened again, two different guards dragging in another transgressor who was struggling and hissing in fury.

 

 

Harry looked down at him, trying to wipe the slate clean. This one was a man, in his mid-twenties, but that meant little to creatures like them. He reached out fleetingly, testing his strength. No, he was much older, older than himself. But just as self-righteous and childishly vain as the last. Age alone couldn't account for all things.

 

"Ready to repent?" he started again, grinning down at the man.

 

The reaction was the same, a hiss of furry and indignation, a struggle against the bonds. The man glared up at him, as if trying to intimidate him with his eyes.

 

The knife flicked into his hand as if on its own accord. And with a swift stroke he drew it down over the man's cheekbone, drawing blood. It was mostly a symbolic gesture, he knew. A fencer's mark, a mortals' scar that once might have been carried with pride. Or a slight, like a glove to the face.

 

The man took it as such, baring his fangs as Harry brought the blade to his lips. This on the other hand was much more than just a symbol of strength and insult. The blood was a connection, and a simple taste of it gave him much more power over the vamp than he probably realized.

 

He licked the blade clean, noting its tang of rage.. deep dark rage, and bitter disgust, coupled with a sour note of despair. And something else... something sweet. He resisted the urge to smack his lips and reach down for a true taste. He swiped the blade against the man's wound again and retasted. Yes, sweet. The sweet taste of fear. But not because of him.

 

The man pulled at his restraints, obviously a little unnerved at being exposed by his blood. Harry ran the blade down his neck, coming to rest the point of it directly over the man's heart.

 

"Why are you so afraid?" he calmly asked, his voice a deep drawl.

 

The man narrowed his eyes, pushing against the blade as if trying to prove him false.

 

Harry just remained in position, tilting the knife a little to the side. It made a hole in the fabric of his shirt, and a small blossom of red soaked into the textile.

 

"Selene will have your head for this!" the man growled out, obviously trying to cower him.

 

Harry stilled for a moment, the newly reawakened memories still raging inside of him. It seemed to be the reaction the man had been hoping for, as he threw his head back with a loud laugh. Harry's eyes sought out Simon's, who just looked back at him calmly. If Simon wasn't worried about her, then neither would he be.

 

He withdrew the blade, grabbing the sides of the chair on either side of the man's face, leaning in just a hair's width away from his snapping fangs.

 

Closing his eyes he summoned it again and let it wash over him as he took a deep breath in, opening his eyes to the sight of the man's smile slipping off his face.

 

 

Simon led him out of the chamber after the sixth, or was it seventh? He had lost count. But his hand was a reassuring weight on his shoulder, centering him again. The hallway of the compound seemed to be lined with vamps, all staring at him. Voices came to an abrupt silence as they passed, but he still caught some of them. "Protégé" and "Did you see?" filled the air. It must have made quite the sight, he was sure, as a line of uncontrollable monsters entered his room, only to leave as quivering messes.

 

His maker guided him on, and he tried to ignore their stares. There was awe in their faces, but it leaned more towards the fear than the wonder. Simon pressed him onward, towards the lift.

 

"Let's get you home," he murmured into his ear as they kept walking, straight ahead.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

The boys were sitting on the couch together, the bright flashes of another onscreen explosion reflecting off the walls. Louis tried to focus on the film they'd spent so much time trying to pick out, but found his mind wandering instead. He felt restless.

 

The drive to the closest video rental had taken an hour, at the corner of some sad little shamble posing as a town. As they had made their way across the parking lot, groups of hicks next to rusty pick-up trucks had turned to stare at them with hollow eyes and gaunt faces that spoke of meth. The girl in the store had been a pretty young thing, decked out in rocker mod, obviously as out of place there as they'd been. He'd felt a little sad when he saw her, and hoped she kept her head up until she could escape this place. Otherwise her future awaited outside, with a toothless grin.

 

Another couple millions of budget exploded spectacularly onscreen and the blonde next to him let out a whoop. He seemed to be the only one actually still watching the film, while absentmindedly gripping onto Louis' leg while absorbed in the surely pivotal car chase.

 

He looked over at the other boys. Liam was blinking sleepily at the screen, a few seconds away from giving up the fight. And Zayn seemed more interested in grinding the next dose of pot for their spliff than just how the hero would inevitably save another day.

 

Louis let his hand wander to the arm still clutching his leg. He brushed his fingernails slowly up and down, circling lazily around the crook of the boy's elbow. Niall didn't seem to notice, eyes still glued to the screen.

 

His mind wandered again, back to that girl in that sad hick-town and her dismal future. He hoped she got into a university far away and never had to return, except maybe for courtesy family visits to remind her of just how far she'd come.

 

Louis blinked at himself, wondering where these thoughts had come from. It wasn't like he could judge, there wasn't an acceptance letter waiting for him back home either. Sure, he could try again next year, maybe earn some cash until then. Or try a trade school, learn how to cut hair or something and move to Hollywood.

 

He chuckled out loud at the thought, which probably came off a bit odd at the dramatic showdown currently onscreen. But the boys didn't notice.

 

Continuing to ghost his short nails over skin to escape his errant thoughts, the blonde finally took notice. He leaned into him, and flipped his hand on Louis' thigh to give him full access.

 

Louis ran his fingers over his palm, before moving back up his forearm. It was a simple caress, but the boy shivered a little at the touch, humming into his shoulder while the final explosion lit up the screen and the boy got the girl.

 

Slowly leaning his head to the right, Louis bared his neck just a tad as he ran his fingers over the boy's palm again. The hand caught his suddenly and he could hear the boy inhaling against his shoulder. His heartbeat picked up immediately and the boy inhaled again, this time a little closer to his neck.

 

Niall let out a sigh against him, a soft sound that seemed to travel straight to his groin. His heartbeat was in double-time now and the boy leaned in further, running the tip of his nose along his neck.

 

Louis suppressed a shiver at the feeling, the simple act of being smelled becoming so erotic with its hidden implications. His eyes slipped closed as he squeezed the hand in his and bared his neck a little more.

 

Another pull of air followed by a gentle exhale against his skin. Louis idly wondered what the vamp must be smelling. Could he smell his blood running so frantically through his veins? The arousal coming off him in waves? He let out a soft sigh of his own at the thought, and a rush of warm tingles lit up inside of him as blood rushed to his cock.

 

Soft lips grazed his throat, and he tried not to press into them. He longed for the feel of those sharp teeth in his skin again – the heady rush of the pull. The boy had been so careful with them, obviously afraid of giving in and losing control. But he wanted him to. So much right now.

 

"Please," he breathed out, barely audibly. Lips continued to tease along his neck and a tongue came to flick against his skin. His erection was already straining painfully against his jeans. He squeeze the boy's hand again, gently trying to urge him on without scaring him away. He pulled their entwined hands towards his crotch, letting the boy feel his need against the back of his hand.

 

A hum against his neck followed by a gentle nip and Louis pressed their hands down, rubbing slowly. Pleasepleaseplease, he silently chanted to himself, hoping he could get the boy to tip.

 

The slide of sharp teeth against his pulse point and his breathing hitched. He ran their hands along his trapped cock, and it throbbed as the boy nipped again. So close. So very close.

 

"Please," he sighed out again, baring his neck a little further. Another slide of teeth, a ghost of lips, an opened mouth kiss right behind his ear. The boy pressed more fully into his side, and Louis released his hand. Niall brought it to the nape of his neck instead, gripping him tightly as he moved to straddle him.

 

Louis could feel the boy's erection pressing down on his own and he bit his lip to suppress the moan. He was too afraid to open his eyes lest he'd break the moment. Instead he let himself be gripped, the hand at the back of his neck digging in to the point of pain. And let himself be smelled again as fangs scratched along his skin.

 

A low growl vibrated against him, and he knew the boy was close to giving in. The vamp rocked down on him, the press against his trapped cock almost achingly painful. He thrust up a little and let out a low moan. It hitched in his throat at the feeling of the boy's canines lining up at the crook of his neck.

 

They remained there, making no move to pierce his skin. His heartbeat was frantic now, the mixture of arousal and anticipation coursing through him like a drug. The boy stilled against him, as if warring with himself and a moment away from pulling out.

 

Louis didn't give him the option, as he swiftly brought his hand to the back of the boy's head while simultaneously pressing in. It finally brought his fangs down that last crucial distance, piercing him with a sharp sting.

 

He let out a loud hiss at the pain, and he could hear Zayn choking on his toke next to them. But he didn't care. Niall was still frozen against him, but as he started to feel the pulsing heat of blood escaping his wound the boy was quickly lost to his primal urges. He growled against him again as he sank his teeth in further, before pulling.

 

Louis bucked against him at the rush, broken noises escaping his throat that were probably worthy of a porno. But he couldn't help it. It just felt so damn good. The boy pulled and swallowed, groaning against his neck, and Louis was awash in euphoria, the pain quickly dissolving into waves and glorious waves of pleasure.

 

It burnt brightly inside of him, his entire body alight and every nerve ending seemingly on fire, almost to the point of becoming painful again.

 

Broken sobs filled the air, and he wasn't sure if they were his own. But they must be. Niall started to rut against him again, picking a rough rhythm, and his body responded on its own, his mind too awash in sensations to process.

 

The blood continued to leave him in a hot rush, the pull making his heart beat in frenzied desperation to keep up. The feeling crested inside of him, and he could feel himself coming sharply, his orgasm only making the pull more intense.

 

His limbs seemed to be suddenly made of cotton, a delicious weightlessness coursing through him. His heart was still beating furiously, but a little slower now. The floating feeling increased; a tantalizing whisper that seemed to be promising that with just a little bit more, he could fly.

 

Somewhere far away he could hear someones voice saying, "Niall, stop!" but he didn't know why they'd be saying that. Because he didn't want him to. It felt so good. So incredibly good.

 

He tried to tell them as much, but somehow he couldn't seem to get the words out. Strange.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

 

_Whack._

 

"Here, give me that." Liam took the whisky bottle from Zayn's hand and raised it above his head before bringing it down with a forceful swish and crack. He momentarily marveled that it hadn't broken apart against the vamp's head, but then again, it was top-shelf.

 

And it finally got the boy's attention, as he swung around and hissed at them, blood coating his mouth. His eyes were glazed with pupils blown, to the point of looking black. He jumped up, and started advancing towards them.

 

"Get behind me Zayn." Liam raised the bottle again, holding it up like a baseball bat and waving it to and fro.

 

"Niall, stop!" Zayn called out again, safely behind Liam. "Please!" His voice cracked a bit on the last word.

 

Niall blinked at them a few times, starting to sway a bit on his feet. He let out a broken gasp before covering his mouth with both hands.

 

The boys remained frozen in position, staring back at him.

 

"Oh no oh no oh no," the blonde whined out behind his hands, dropping them as his fangs retracted. He turned back to Louis in a flash and hovered above him while he shakily checked his pulse. "Oh thank god," he sobbed out after a tense second, dropping his forehead against the boy's chest.

 

Liam and Zayn approached cautiously, with Liam still clutching the bottle. Louis had passed out on the couch, a dopey grin on his face.

 

"Niall?" Liam ventured, prodding him with the butt of the bottle.

 

The boy raised his head to look at them, tears welling in his eyes. "I'm so sorry!" he muffled out, wiping at his nose. He looked back at Louis while biting down on his thumb and running it over the wounds he'd made. They knitted closed as his blood seeped into the skin.

 

Getting up a little unsteadily, he walked across the room and threw himself into the armchair as he buried his head in his hands. His body was shaking with sobs as he quietly snuffled to himself.

 

Liam and Zayn looked at each other, a little at a loss. They'd gone from possibly having to test the stake to the heart myth to proper procedure when consoling a distraught baby vamp in under a minute. Liam set the bottle back down as Zayn went to check on Louis.

 

"Yeah, he's breathing," Zayn confirmed, moving to shift the boy more fully onto the couch. Louis moaned again in his sleep and the black haired boy raised an eyebrow at him. He was going to have one hell of a hangover when he woke up.

 

Liam was meanwhile pouring them shots, taking one as he crouched down next to Niall.

 

"Hey." He padded the boy's knee, who just sniffled harder. "It's okay, nothing happened. Here." He nudged the blonde's shoulder as he held up the glass.

 

Niall dropped his hands from his face, wiping furiously at his tears as he looked at him. "It's not okay! I could have killed him!" His lip quivered as more tears started to run down his face. His eyes fell to the floor, overcome with guilt as shakes racked his body.

 

"Hey, look at me." Liam ran a thumb over the boy's cheeks, before tilting his head up. Watery blue eyes met his, and Liam's heart melted a little. He held the shot up to the boy's lips and tilted it back for him.

 

Niall swallowed, continuing to look into those warm brown eyes. They seemed so calm and filled with concern. Concern for him. It just made fresh tears spring into his eyes.

 

"Hey hey!" Liam set down the glass and drew him into a hug.

 

The boy whimpered against him, sobbing into his shoulder, "I'm so sorry I'm so sorry."

 

Zayn stood in the middle of the room, watching as Liam tried to console a vampire, rocking him gently as he held him in a tight embrace. A vampire who had just tried to eat their best friend.

 

Weirder things had probably happened, but this was pretty far up there. He picked up his glass and downed it, before slumping back down on the far end of the couch and relighting his joint.

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

 

Louis was walking through the manor taking sips of the beet juice Niall had forced on him. The vamp had taken to hovering around him after the 'accident', constantly rechecking his well-being with guilty eyes. So far he'd cooked him a meal, given him a massage, restyled his hair – all the while making sure he was always properly hydrated.

 

And he had to admit, he kind of liked the attention. But he tried not to play up his slow recovery, in fear that the boy would just beat himself up further. Because even though he had felt pretty shitty afterwards, it had been worth it. Oh had it been worth it.

 

Just the thought sent a shot of arousal to his groin, the warmth coursing through his stomach. He took another sip of juice, the taste sweet and earthy on his tongue. Holding it up to the light he looked at the deep red of it, so close to the color of blood. He wondered what it had been like for Niall, feeding on him. They'd gotten flashes of it through the link, but it was probably just a pale echo of the real thing. He wanted to know, almost as much as he wanted to be fed on again. And his cock gave a twitch.

 

Downing the glass, he continued stalking the house. The blonde had to be around here somewhere. And he had to get hungry sometime, surely. If Louis played his cards right, maybe he could get a repeat.

 

 

Zayn was in the kitchen with Niall, who currently had made it his mission to scrub every nook and cranny of it to shining perfection. He was apparently taking last night's slip-up pretty hard, if the vigor of the scouring pad against the stubborn baked-in grease was anything to go by.

 

He watched the boy from his perch on the counter while leisurely rolling a joint. He didn't really get it though. It wasn't like he'd never fed on them before. And it wasn't like he'd forced the boy. No, it had been closer to the opposite. Louis had been more than willing.

 

"It's because Harry isn't here, isn't it?" Zayn sealed the joint with a lick.

 

"What?" Niall continued scrubbing, pushing at his hair with the back of his forearm.

 

"Why you're so freaked out about this," he mumbled around the spliff in his mouth as he lit it.

 

The blonde let out a sigh as he turned the grate in the sink, starting on the other side.

 

"You shouldn't be," he went on. "It's not like we're some clueless unwilling donors." He held the smoke in for a second before letting it out with a soft hiss. "Hey, I'd even let you have a taste right now if you wanted to."

 

The blonde stopped his movements, letting his head hang as he came to grip the countertop tightly. Zayn studied him through slitted eyes as he took another toke.

 

"Zayn." Niall's voice sounded a bit broken. He remained silent for a moment, as if casting around for the words.  
"You don't know..." he trailed off.  
"You don't know how... how hard it is." The boy raised his arm to wipe at his nose, pausing again.  
"It's like it's there, inside of you, all the time. The want, the need... and it's never enough. It's never satisfied." He ran the grill under the water and placed it on the rack to dry.  
"It's like a vicious addiction, gripping you with claws that you can never get free of, because without it you will actually die." He dried his hands on a towel and stood in the center of the spotless kitchen, looking unsure of what to do with himself now.

 

"I know. I felt it through the link."

 

He looked at him, at the dark eyes calmly watching him. Niall blinked once, twice, before dropping his gaze to the floor. Maybe the boy did know, or at least think that he did. Felt whatever had bled through the link on that wondrous night by the sea. But it was not the whole truth.

 

"And worse than that, you start to crave it," he continued, mumbling at the floor. "Not just the blood, but the addiction itself. It becomes part of you, part of who you are. And letting it take over becomes the most beautiful of things, until you can think of nothing else. Yet every time you let it, it takes a little more. Whittling away at you piece by piece, until at some point there's nothing left. Nothing left but a... a monster." He hit the counter between Zayn's legs without realizing he'd even started moving towards the boy.

 

The joint had gone out, forgotten in the boy's hand as he stared back at him with wide eyes. And Niall could smell it. Smell the arousal coming off him in waves. Hear the wild beat of his heart. See the way the pupils in his eyes were dilating with desire.

 

It really wasn't the reaction he'd been hoping for. Why were these boys all so fucked up? They should be running away to save themselves, getting far away from the things a breath away from devouring them. Instead they'd come running back on their own free will, all but locking themselves into the devil's cage.

 

Zayn raised his wrist in a nonverbal gesture of permission, running the inside softly against Niall's cheek. And he couldn't help but lean into it, breathing the boy's scent in deeply. He kept his eyes locked on those dark ones and their silent consent.

 

He nuzzled against the soft skin, reveling in the smell. His tongue came out for a taste, a quick flick. It tasted of... sunshine. Sunshine on a beach. A touch of salt, a touch of skin, and warmth. All alive and pulsing beneath his lips.

 

His hand came up to catch the boy's wrist, needing to feel it closer. He felt the ache of his fangs descending, and he ran them along the skin, feeling the boy shiver against him.

 

"Go ahead. Just a taste."

 

Niall's eyes snapped open at the words, not sure when they'd fallen shut. He looked back at the boy as he continued to hold his wrist to his mouth. Just a taste. And oh how he wanted to taste. Taste that sunshine against his tongue. Feel that beat of life rushing through him.

 

Zayn just continued to look back at him as he held his wrist to his mouth, running his canines over that fragile flesh – the want building up inside of him to an irresistible crescendo.

 

 _Thump thump thump_ , the beat of the boy's heart answered against his lips.

 

And he gave in to it, biting down. And Zayn let out a moan.

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

 

 

A seagull was riding the wind, its shrill cry echoing against the cliffs. Liam was sitting on the balcony, nursing a beer. He looked down at the bottle in his hand as he ran the other through his hair.

 

They'd been here too long already. He was starting to feel reality slipping away, a small trickle at a time until nothing remained... just this place. It had a weird sort of magic, pulling you in and making you forget. Until you turned around and realized that time had past you by while you'd been looking somewhere else.

 

He had to get the boys out of here while they still had the chance. Memories or not, who knew when Simon and Harry were going to return. And then, just what they might do. No, he had to pack them up and leave, and never look back.

 

 

The sound of a car approaching made Louis stop in his tracks. He'd been about to check the porch for Niall, but now he hesitated as he stood in the foyer, waiting for them to come inside.

 

The door opened and his heart sped up, ready to run and leap on the boy. But the boy just stood there in the doorway, looking back at him.

 

Louis froze, thrown off by the look on his face. It wasn't the reaction he'd been hoping for. He'd expected a smile, a twinkle in the eyes, a warm embrace. Instead he got a blank expression, bordering on... what? Annoyance? Anger? Disgust? He couldn't read it.

 

"Hey," he finally got out softly, the timbre a bit high.

 

The boy watched him for another moment, before finally answering him. "Hey."

 

Simon entered behind him, clasping Harry on the shoulder and giving Louis a nod. They were both dressed in black, the dim light of the doorway casting them in matching shadows. Louis fidgeted before them in his bright clothes as the temperature seemed to drop in the room. What the hell was going on?

 

"So, err... the boys and I came here," he said a bit lamely. As if they couldn't gather that much just from the fact that he was standing there. "Uhmm, we came... we came to make our decision." He spoke to Simon, but his eyes kept flicking back to Harry. The boy just stared back at him, a stony expression on his face.

 

"Excellent." Simon shot him a smile as he nudge Harry into the room. "Let's round them up then." They walked past him and into the house, and Louis remained standing for a moment looking at the dim room, wondering if the manor's decor had always been so sinister.

 

 

A creak on the stairs stopped the finger that was about to coat Zayn's nose with icing. After a brief hesitation it flicked out anyways, reducing them both to stoned giggles.

 

Simon had to smile at the sight. Typical. The kitchen was a mess of dough and flour, with bowls and utensils scattered around in the various stages of a botched backing process. Niall was hiding his laughter in the boy's chest who was trying to wipe the mess off his face, his hair white with flour.

 

It warmed his heart a little, their carefree ways. The boy really was a beacon of light.

 

"Boys." His voice stopped them, the kitchen abruptly silent as Niall swung around to face him. The boy's eyes went wide as he saw him, before glancing around the kitchen in a panic.

 

"Uhm, it's not... I'll clean it up again I promise!" He wrung at the back of his neck, frowning as it came back covered in frosting.

 

"Never mind it for now. Clean yourselves up and meet us in the dining hall." Simon had to keep the smile off his face as he left the room.

 

 

The sun was almost lost to the waves when Liam heard the car. The sound of doors being thrown shut and the beep of a lock. So they were back.

 

He downed the last of his drink as he stood up, steeling himself for the inevitable. As he took one last look at the skyline, he almost wished he'd acted sooner.

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

 

 

They were back in the dining hall, the glow of the chandelier catching in the facets of their crystal goblets.

 

Simon raised his, bringing the red wine to his lips as he silently watched them.

 

Niall was toying with his glass, running a trembling hand over the stem as he fidgeted on his chair. Harry's went untouched.

 

Liam brought his own to his lips, the liquid dry and rich. A hint of oak spoke of decay.

 

"So, I guess we might as well cut to the chase," Simon finally spoke. "Have you come to a decision?"

 

Silence met him, the dull ticks of the room's grandfather clock suddenly unbearably loud.

 

Liam looked at his boys, torn with guilt. He knew what they wanted, but he also knew... well, he knew what needed to be done. He tried to catch their eyes, but Zayn was too busy staring at Louis. And Louis was alternating between shooting sad glances at Harry and staring into his cup.

 

He looked at Harry, who's eyes were on the table, his mouth set in a hard line.

 

"Lou..." he tried to get the boy's attention, to make sure he was doing the right thing. The boy picked up his glass, taking a deep swallow before setting it down again. He stared at the table for a moment, before looking back at Liam. There was defeat in his eyes.

 

They looked at each other for a moment, before the boy gave a curt nod and reached for his glass again.

 

Simon had meanwhile remained silent, watching the exchange. Liam tried to meet his eyes as he picked out his words.

 

"I think... we think... well." Okay, so maybe they weren't so picked out. "Well," he tried again. "Uhmm... I'd like to say that, that we appreciate the choice you've given us. I know it must have been quite a risk just letting us remember it all, and waiting for us to come back." He reached for his glass again, his throat suddenly dry.

 

Simon continued to watch him steadily, waiting for him to continue. The clock ticked on in the silence.

 

"And as much as we appreciate the option, and are quite flattered really, because we know it's not a small thing you're offering... " Liam knew he was babbling now, but the situation was quite unnerving. He really didn't want to somehow piss the vamp off. "Well, I'd like to say thank you... and that we've decided that... well... since we've got families and all, and school, and stuff... that it might be best... not that you're not great and all and we've really enjoyed our time with you... "

 

"So you'd like to forget?" Simon finally cut him off, much to Liam's relief.

 

"Yes." He looked at the boys, waiting for them to interject. But the table remained silent.

 

"Excellent." Simon's smile made Liam's eyes drop down to his glass again. "We shall do it first thing tomorrow." He stood up, bidding them goodnight as he swept from the room.

 

Liam let out a shaky breath, glad that it was over. But he couldn't help but glance back up at Niall, finding him looking back at him. His eyes were filled with tears.

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

 

The field outside the house was dried up, a last nod from summer. He ran his hand through the long stalks to feel them scratch against his skin, needing to feel something tangible right now. The wind picked up to hiss through them, a haunting sound, and the grass moved around him in waves.

 

He'd made the right choice, he knew he had. Yet he felt no better for having made it. Why did it feel so heavy?

 

The dim glow from the manor shone at his back, an oppressive presence. He moved away from it, trying to clear his head.

 

 

Niall's fingers were picking at the cracked paint of the window as he watched Liam make his way through the field. The light from the stars flickered, choked and released by turbulent clouds. But even so, he could make out the boy's hunched form, even from this distance. And it seemed to silently scream out to him.

 

He couldn't blame him for the decision he had made. After all, he was right. They had other things, other people – people that cared for them. That would miss them when they were gone. It wasn't like it had been for him.

 

The window sill cracked under his nails, and he frowned down at the scratches he'd made. He looked back up, finding that Liam had almost ambled out of view. His frown deepened as he turned from the window. Tonight was not a night to be alone.

 

 

A creak behind him made him look up, blinking at the trees that seemed to have sprung up before him. He'd been so wrapped up in his own head that he hadn't even noticed leaving the field. Spinning around, he could barely make out the manor's lights through the trees.

 

Taking a step towards it, the woods gave off another sound. A chill ran through him, the primal instinct warning him that something wasn't right. He glanced around again, more to reassure himself that he was alone than to catch something amongst the gloom.

 

He took another step, and there was snap before him – the sound of a twig being broken under a heavy foot. Liam's heart sped up as he backed away from it, whatever it was. Another step, and another snap. There was definitely something there, and whatever it was stood between him and the house.

 

A cloud sped past, freeing the stars for a brief second. It was enough to let Liam make out what was hiding from him. Or maybe it wanted him to see, as the cloaked figure took another step towards him. The light glinted off its smile.

 

And Liam turned and ran.

 

The path was a blur, branches and leaves flying in his face as he stumbled through them. He could hear the cracks behind him, heavy steps letting him know he was being pursued. But they seemed to switch up, suddenly coming from his left, then his right, then from in front of him.

 

He tried to run in an arch, to somehow make it out of the woods and back to the manor, and away from whatever was in here with him. But in his panic he was quickly getting disoriented, and the trees only seemed to get thicker.

 

He fell, foot caught in uneven underbrush. His palms burned as he caught himself, the sting letting him know he'd been hurt. Stopping for a second, he tried to listen around his heavy pants. A snap on his left, and he was off again.

 

Sticks and stones, a flash of moonlight, a cloak behind a tree, the shape standing before him again.

 

He turned, sprinting in the opposite direction, knowing he was truly lost now. And that he was being toyed with. Whoever was after him seemed to know just where he'd run to next, always a step ahead.

 

Thorny brush caught his pants, and he nearly fell again in an effort to get free. They claimed his shoe instead and he let it go, knowing the hesitation would get him caught.

 

He ran on, his bare sole being sliced painfully by the ground. Another blur of branches and trees, rough bark against his shoulder as he knocked into one. He stumbled and lost his footing, slipping down a hill he had not seen, caught in a slide of dirt and leaves.

 

Something broke on the way down, a sharp pain in his side as he hit the bottom and rolled into a ball. He wheezed against it, reduced to shallow gasps by the agony. He remained in position as he tried to get his breathing under control; his heart beating frantically in his chest.

 

Finally he struggled to rise, getting up unsteadily as he cradled his side. It screamed at him for daring to move, along with every cut and bruise. He wiped the dirt out of his eyes as he tried to make out where he'd fallen to.

 

It was a meadow, bathed in moonlight. And in it stood that figure again, waiting for him. Liam let out a whimper, struggling to remain upright.

 

"Gotcha." A flash of teeth from under its hood as the creature smiled at him. And in another flash it was behind him, pulling his head back as nails dug into his scalp. Liam let out a chocked cry as his side flared up, a rib surely broken.

 

A nose nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in. Liam froze against it, paralyzed by fear.

 

"Hmm... you must be one of his pets. Seline said he'd have some." Fangs scraped against his skin, the slick slide sending a shiver through him. "Hmm... yes... you sure smell like a pet. And you feel..." Liam gasped as he felt the connection being forced on him, grasping at him like steely claws. He tried to struggle now, but the grip only tightened.

 

"Oh wow," a chuckle against his neck. "He's really got you open wide. No wonder they're all a flutter."

 

Liam threw his body back, trying to catch the vamp off-balance. He found himself being thrown to the ground instead, mouth in the dirt as he was pinned in place.

 

"Time to send a little message then," the voice growled again his nape, before clamping down with a savage tear of flesh. Liam let out a hoarse scream.

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

 

Niall's dead heart stopped for a second time as his ears picked up the sound. It was faint, almost lost to the whoosh of the leaves being tossed carelessly by the wind. But it was there. And it was Liam. Crying out in pain.

 

He fumbled for the connection, getting nothing in his panic. He gripped at the dead husks around him, uprooting them as he tried to center himself. It was far off, and very faint, but it was there. Liam. Liam. He clung to the thread tightly as he made his way.

 

The path was a blur, his feet carrying him faster than he'd ever thought possible. But his mind was focused on one thing only. The connection was weakening the closer he got, threatening to extinguish. He just hoped he could reach him in time.

 

 

Pain. So much pain. Each time the opiate of the pull threatened to release him the creature adjusted its bite, tearing into him anew, intent on causing as much damage as possible.

 

Fangs pierced into him again before pulling down, the sick sound of his flesh ripping ringing in his ears. His body burned and pulsed, the waves of it so extreme they beckoned with madness.

 

Liam struggled again, weakly, his strength lost to the agony. Claws pierced the skin of his biceps as they continued to hold him down, and the creature growled and slurped against him.

 

His heart pounded against the ground at the horror of it. He was being eaten, eaten alive.

 

Another bite and rip, and he could feel his blood leaving him in spurts. There was a wetness against the side of his face and he didn't know if it was from his tears or from his blood, slowly soaking into the meadow.

 

His breaths were coming out in desperate gasps, trying to bring oxygen into his body but finding too little blood left to carry it. His vision started to swim, his mind fading, and the vicious pull and gnaw continued – calling for his surrender. And then he let it, and gave in.

 

It didn't hurt anymore, it felt far away. Like it was happening to someone else and he just happened to be watching; a troubled bystander, powerless to intervene.

 

He looked out at the meadow, and suddenly it was lit up with a flurry of sparkling lights, floating and dancing around him in whimsical patterns. It looked so beautiful, and he had to smile at the sight. And then they started to change, twirling around like tufts of cotton, becoming ever more.

 

He blinked at the haze of it, slowly being blinded by the white. It was then that he realized he'd had this dream before. And just like in his dream, the edges were starting to darken. Fading to black.

 

 

Niall made it to the clearing, his hair probably filled with leaves and his shirt torn by wayward branches, but he paid it no mind. His eyes were solely on the sight of the boy pressed down into the grass, a hooded figure on his back – draining him dry.

 

"Stop!" he called out, trying for authoritative but his terror making him fall miserably short.

 

The creature raised up, flashing bloody fangs at him. It cackled back at him as it went to withdraw its hood. Auburn waves tumbled out, and a tongue ran over glistening lips.

 

Niall steeled himself, ready to fight a creature he knew was quite out of his league. Because she was. Her cloak alone spoke of it. He was little versed in vampire politics, but he could at least spot a mercenary when he saw one.

 

"Might as well love – puppy's dead." She clamped down on Liam's neck once more, before she stood up and wiped her face. "Be a dear and let your Master and his little protégé know. Trouble's coming. This was just a warning." She grinned at him as she threw the hood back on and took off, a blur into the forest.

 

Niall stared at the spot she'd just vacated, before the still form of the boy in the grass shook him out of it.

 

" _Liam_!" he chocked out as he crouched over the boy. The wound on his neck was garish, torn flesh too drained to even bleed out. He tried to check for his pulse, but couldn't find a spot that hadn't been torn to shreds. Sobs were escaping him as he turn him over, leaning down to press his ear against his chest. It was silent.

 

Dead. _Dead dead dead_. He looked into the boy's face, his once warm brown eyes staring at the sky with a blank gaze.

 

Another sob shook through him, and he was tearing at his wrist without thought, making the blood flow. He brought it to the boy's lips – bright red covering ghostly white.

 

His blood trickled in, but nothing happened. He withdrew his wrist as sobs racked through him. He wasn't strong enough for this. He was barely out of the grave himself, he couldn't save him.

 

Taking a deep breath in, he clamped down on the hysteria threatening to drown him, and reached out. Reached out in a desperate call for help.

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

 

 

He'd been floating peacefully, caught in a gentle sway on a different kind of breeze. And he felt free... unbound, suddenly above it all. No more worries, no more cares, no more pain. But then something tugged at him and when he looked back down he saw a broken body lying in the center of a field, garishly pale in the moonlight.

 

Some part of him was unnerved by the sight, because somewhere deep down it still registered as himself, his own... his little vessel, which had carried him safely through so many years. But a larger part of himself couldn't bring itself to care anymore. There were other things out there, more important things than the sad sight on the grass. He could feel them beckoning for him, an urgent yearning that was lighting up inside.

 

He was continuing to watch and slowly float away when a blonde came stumbling up to his body. Looking on, he saw the boy falling to his knees and leaning over his form, pressing a bloody wrist against those pale lips. The boy was crying, and Liam couldn't figure out why. He didn't feel sad. So why was he? He didn't feel angry either. No, now that he thought of it, he didn't feel much of anything at all.

 

But there was another tug, and his peaceful floating came to an end. Suddenly he found himself tethered again. Tethered to something that had already unbound him and didn't want him back.

 

Liam struggled against it, the link shimmering before his eyes in threatening strings of slick blacks and ruby reds. They were pulling him down again; slithering around to encase him in a grotesque web of vines that held him in place, glinting and sparkling all the while.

 

If Liam could have, he would have screamed again. This felt so wrong. He wasn't meant to remain here. He wasn't meant to go back down... into that. The reds and blacks closed rank, slowly stealing everything else from view until Liam found himself awash in them.

 

 

Louis and Zayn had been sitting out in the courtyard, staring into the fire pit and drowning themselves in liquor when they heard the commotion inside. Some lights came on to the low grumble of orders being called out and furniture being moved around.

 

Getting up a bit unsteadily, the boys wandered back inside to seek out the tumult while clutching their drinks. The sight that greeted them almost made Louis drop his.

 

Liam was lying passed-out on the dining room table, looking garishly pale. He was naked from the waist up and his once perfect physique had been mutilated by a patchwork of deep gashes and terrible bites. It looked like he'd been mauled by some sick animal, one more out to hurt than to feast.

 

"Wha... " Louis voice got stuck in his throat, and he could only helplessly stand and stare. Niall was clutching the head of the table, looking almost as pale as Liam was. Simon was leaning over, checking the damage before asking Harry something. The boy was standing on the other side, his face drawn in a frown as he stared down at the body.

 

A chill went through Louis, the hollow kind he'd last gotten long ago, when calling out to wake a sleeping pet only to realize that it hadn't been sleeping at all. With a sickening rush the world seemed to go on mute and the glass slipped from his hand.

 

 

"He's still in there. Niall's blood is keeping him bound, but it wasn't enough to..." Harry was saying in his slow drawl, oddly detached.

 

Simon nodded while wiping his hand on a handkerchief. "And he's also dead." His plain words made Niall break out into sobs again as he slid down into a chair. Louis wanted to echo him, but shock was keeping him in place.

 

Zayn had meanwhile made it to the foot of the table, looking down at the broken body with a solemn expression. "What happened?" he asked after a while, startling the vamps around him.

 

Simon sighed as he looked back down at the body before answering, "A message, a warning. It's standard operating procedure for a slight to be repaid in kind. And the easiest way sometimes is to go after a vampire's... friends." He walked away from the table to pour himself a drink from a crystal decanter. "And well, I'm sorry it had to be one of yours."

 

"You said he was still in there." He looked at Harry, who was staring at Simon with a blank expression. "But he's dead? Can he still hear us?" He reached out a hand to touch Liam's leg. It felt ice cold, and he quickly withdrew his hand again as if burnt. "Is there.... is there anything you can do to save him?"

 

The table was silent. Zayn looked around, back at Louis who was still frozen by shock. At Harry, who's forehead was etched by a heavy frown line. To Niall, who seemed to have run out of tears and was just blankly staring now.

 

"It's too late for that I'm afraid," Simon eventually spoke.

 

That finally seemed to bring Louis crashing out of his stupor. He stumbled towards the table, his fingers trembling as he stroked them through the boy's hair. Liam's eyes were closed.

 

And Zayn watched as Louis broke down. In all the years he'd known the boy, which were quite a few now, he could probably count on one hand the times he'd seen him cry. Come to think of it, he couldn't even remember the last time. Especially never like this.

 

"Harry, Harry, _please_." Louis got himself together long enough to look at the boy while brushing away his tears. "I know you don't... don't want us here anymore, for whatever reason. But this is my fault. It's my fault we're here, and it's my fault he's–" his voice cracked on the word, his eyes flinching away from the vamp's unwavering gaze. "I know it's too much to ask," he continued, speaking at Liam's still form now. "But I can't... Liam... he can't... he doesn't deserve... _please_ ," he broke down again, unable to finish his plea.

 

 

Voices brought him back to the surface, sobs, a hand running through his hair. He heard his name and he knew they were talking about him, about his fate, and he didn't like one word of it. He tried to tell them so, but his mouth didn't seem to want to cooperate. He tried to open his eyes, but found himself unable to. And when he tried to move a limb he just got the same result.

 

Slowly, panic started to grip him and he tried to thrash around, desperate to get anything to work, but it wouldn't. He was wide awake now in his own mind, and with it came to slowly realize the horrific implication. He was trapped.

 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

 

 

Liam blinked at the darkness. Well, blink was probably not the right word to use since he couldn't actually move his eyes, but he stared at it nonetheless. With what, his mind's eye? Though it was all pitch-black, so there wasn't much of a point to it really.

 

But he could hear. Hear everything that was going on around him. Niall's sobs behind him, Louis beginning for his life, and Simon, who seemed to keep going on about how he was dead. But he wasn't dead. He was right here! He wanted to shout it at them, make them see. And he did, but it was no use. All he could do was lie there and listen.

 

 

"Harry, you have to help him." Louis was croaking out at his side. Harry didn't seem to reply.

 

"Hmm, I'm afraid it's a bit too late for that," Simon's cool voice came from a bit further away.

 

"But you did it with Zayn. His heart had stopped!" Louis again. He could feel the boy's hand trembling on his shoulder.

 

"Yes, but that was different. He wasn't drained of blood." Harry's slow drawl as he finally spoke.

 

"But... can't you give him a transfusion? You've got enough blood lying around here." Zayn this time, from somewhere by his feet.

 

"That won't restart his heart. And if we try supplementing at the same time, there's no guarantee... " Harry trailed off, and Liam would have swallowed if he could have.

 

"That he won't turn... " Louis quietly echoed the thought that Liam just had.

 

There was an awkward silence and Liam paced inside his head in turmoil.

 

"Well, or come back as something... else." Simon spoke and Liam could hear the splash of a glass being refilled.

 

"Like what, a zombie?" Zayn chuckled, which didn't make Liam feel a whole lot better.

 

"Perhaps," Simon's simple reply made the room drop a few degrees and Liam thought he could feel the chill of it against his skin. "See," he went on, "The... process doesn't usually work this way. It's all about being on the brink, and not actually dead." There was that terrible word again and Liam wanted to scream... or cry, he wasn't really sure which. "And our little visitor made sure of that. Not much of a message if it just leads to more reinforcements."

 

"But you have to try something! The longer we wait... " Louis' voice was chocked, the despair making Liam want to reach out for him.

 

"You're right... Niall." There was a silence, then a scrape of a chair. Liam could only guess at the looks that had been exchanged.

 

"Alright Harry, I want you to keep a firm grip on him. You're closer." Liam was wondering why they'd need to hold him down since he couldn't move, when he felt Harry through the connection. It was faint, but it was still there, and Liam wanted to pounce on it like a frolicking puppy in relief. It wasn't until he felt the reassuring umber light of the boy that he realized how alone he'd felt. And how scared.

 

"Got him?" Simon's voice from his left.

 

"Yeah." He could hear Harry's smile through the darkness. And he wanted to be closer to it, so he reached out and struggled to strengthen the bond, throwing all of himself at it in an ungainly heap of desperation.

 

He could hear Harry laughing out loud at this. Meanwhile he was just basking in the glow of the connection. It felt warm. Which only made him become aware of how terribly cold he'd been. The heavy gloom behind his eyes was slowly turning into lazy swirls of burnt gold, and he wanted to roll in them, like in a pile of warm fluffy towels.

 

There was some commotion in the room, and something was dropped onto the table next to him. The plop and slide of plastic told him all he needed to know.

 

"Alright, we shall give it a try." Simon spoke out again, to the clink of another glass. "Boys, I'd think it best if you left the room now."

 

There was a shuffled of steps and a creak of a door, and then Liam knew they were gone. And he was alone, alone in a room with three vampires. A prick on his arm as a needle was inserted, but nothing entered, absence the pull of a heart.

 

"I think we'll have to go to the source." Liam had just enough time to wonder what that might be, when there was a cold slip of steel over his heart, followed by searing pain. He screamed out in his head, hearing an echoing gasp from beside him.

 

"Keep him in there Harry, and keep him sane. This is going to get much worse." At that a warm rush surged through him and he was being swaddled in gold, the edges starting to blur.

 

Though dimly through the haze he could still make out: "Niall, shears."

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

 

 

Zayn and Louis were camped out in front of the closed door, passing a chilled bottle of prosecco between them.

 

Louis took another pull at the muffled sounds passing through the door. It made him think of the numerous times he'd been left in hospital waiting rooms as his mum delivered another baby. There had been complications with the twins, and the waiting had been unbearable. Staring at the clock, trying to keep his mind from wandering to the worst case scenarios. At least there weren't any screams this time. But that somehow made it all the more horrible.

 

"What'ya think will happen?" Zayn asked as he took back the bottle, face cast in shadows. He took a swig before handing it back.

 

The brut felt heavy on Louis' tongue, meant for celebration. "Not sure."

 

They continued to sit and listen to the clock slowly ticking by.

 

 

Niall stared at the exposed heart before him. Simon was rubbing his blood into it, and it quickened. A grotesque twitch and the bag in his hands gurgled, blood being drawn in. He just hoped they weren't reanimating a corpse.

 

"How is he doing?" Simon asked calmly while he pumped the boy's heart.

 

"Hmmm?" Harry looked a bit glazed, trying to focus on two things at once. "Oh, good. He's doing good." He smiled down at Liam's still form.

 

Niall quirked an eyebrow at him. He wished he could join in on the connection, but right now he didn't know if he could handle it. It might just bring the whole thing tumbling down.

 

"Good, send him a little wake-up. We're almost ready now."

 

The bag in his hand continued to empty, sending blood back into the boy's system. Niall watched as the heart picked up a jerky rhythm, and Simon slowly withdrew his hand.

 

And the heart stopped again.

 

Simon frowned as he went to replace his hand. "It's as I had suspected. This body is dead."

 

Another frown etched itself into Harry's features. "But he's still in there, and he's so... he's hanging on, he's desperate." His eyes slid up to his Maker, a long look passing between them.

 

Finally Simon nodded, sighing to himself as he pulled something off the table. "We'll have to do this intravenously," he said as beckoned to Niall to bring him the rest of the supplies.

 

 

The clock ticked on and the boys waited. The bottle was empty but they made no move to get another. The room before them was ominously silent.

 

Zayn stared at the wall before him, his eyes blurring as his thoughts took him away. He'd never thought it would come to this. That Liam would be in there, at the mercy of a couple of vamps. Would they try? Would they care? For what was another human in the scheme of all things. And what would happen to them after this? How could they go on?

 

Suddenly his throat felt parched, and he shot a look at Louis who was staring at the floor before getting up. He made his way to the kitchen and pulled out another bottle. He briefly considered rolling a joint but it somehow felt wrong. This wasn't the time to forget.

 

Sliding back down in the hallway, he took another swig before passing it back to Louis. The boy didn't respond at first, needing a few prods before accepting it from his hand. Zayn wanted to reassure him, perhaps with a few words of 'It'll be okay' but the words somehow got stuck in his throat.

 

So they sat, and the time ticked by, and they waited.

 

 

"Before I begin, and I can give no guarantees this will work, either way, but one of you might have to claim him." Simon slid the needle into his arm and glanced up at Harry. The boy was having trouble concentrating, the strain of keeping their patient sedated and bound starting to wear on him. But no, Harry had already minded Niall, and done a pretty good job of it as far as he could tell. Maybe it was time for the other boy to carry a little more responsibility. "Niall?"

 

The boy looked up in shock, almost dropping the bag his Maker's blood was running into. "Wha?" he replied, his eyes widening.

 

"Are you willing to claim him? For better or worse?" Simon leveled a look at him, opening and closing his fist to make the blood flow.

 

Niall swallowed as he looked down at Liam's body and back up at Simon. He didn't need to be told what all the things the 'for worse' stood for. For one, if it didn't take and Liam came back as something... wrong, he'd be the one who would have to set it right.

 

He glanced at Harry, who was calmly looking down at Liam. Niall didn't know how he'd managed it all, taking care of him. It was an insane amount of responsibility and he didn't know if he was ready for it. No, he knew he wasn't ready for it. But then again, when was anyone? How had Harry felt when Simon had dropped a freshly turned Niall in his lap, only to take off again shortly after? It must have been terrifying, but he had somehow managed it, and done it well.

 

Taking a deep breath in, he nodded jerkily. "I accept." He exhaled a little shakily, already feeling the weight on his shoulders.

 

Simon smiled at him and withdrew the needle and held it out to the blonde. "Well then, some of yours should be in there as well."

 

Niall nodded as he bared his arm and held it out, his hand closing to a tight fist.

 

 

The door creaked opened and both boys gave a startled jerk at the sound, so wrapped up were they in their thoughts.

 

Niall stood before them, eyes flicking to them and at the ground before flicking up at them again. He looked about as lost as they felt.

 

"It's done," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "We'll see... we'll see in the morning." With that he closed the door again, and the boys were left staring at each other.

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

 

 

Morning came, achingly slowly. Zayn had passed out at some point, but Louis hadn't been able to at all. He'd lain on the bed, staring at the ceiling through the gloom, his head spinning all the while. Finally he heard a noise somewhere in the house and got off the bed, his movements waking Zayn.

 

The boy grumbled, rolling over onto Louis' vacated spot, intent on going back to sleep. But then he stilled and shot up with a jerk, last night's memories probably flooding back to him. He looked up at Louis who already had his hand on the doorknob, and crawled off the bed to follow him downstairs.

 

 

Niall was in the kitchen when they entered, cradling a mug of hot chocolate like a lifeline. There were little marshmallows floating in it and together with the boy's pajamas made the scene a little endearing.

 

So they shuffled in, standing a bit awkwardly before slumping down on the bar stools. Niall handed them both a cup of their own and Zayn looked down at his, watching as the marshmallows slowly dissolved in the hot liquid. He poked a finger in and brought the gooey mess to his lips. The sickening sweetness was somehow reassuring.

 

They sipped in silence, the first rays of a clear morning shining through the window. It bathed the kitchen in a soft glow that only early light could bring. Peaceful. Warm.

 

But Louis felt anything but. He squirmed on the chair, clutching his mug so tightly the heat of it was starting to hurt. He kept shooting glances at Niall, waiting for him to say it. But the boy just stood there, leaning against the counter, taking small sips of his cocoa.

 

"He's dead, isn't he?" he finally asked, not being able to take it anymore. The words felt heavy on his tongue.

 

Niall finally looked up at this, a shadow passing over his features. He looked tired.

 

Louis' eyes dropped back down to his cup, suddenly overcome with the urge to fling it against the wall.

 

The boy remained silent, his hand trembling a bit as he brought the mug back up to his lips. Zayn watched him, an odd pang in his chest. But it couldn't be. Last night he'd said... ? "Niall?"

 

The boy looked at him, sadness in his eyes. But for whom?

 

"Is he?" Zayn tried again, swallowing around the thickness in his throat.

 

The blonde gave a curt nod, eyes dropping to the ground and he turned away to place his mug in the sink.

 

Zayn stared at his back, a dart of gritty ice shooting through him. After all that, had they not been able to save him after all? And he'd what, passed away in the night while they'd slept? He was too in shock for tears, continuing to stare at the boy as his mind whirled in a frantic daze before going blank to the sounds of static.

 

 _ **He'd never get to say goodbye**_ – the thought finally made it through the haze, and his eyes started to sting. His heart seemed to burn with it and a sob escaped him as he hid his head in his hands.

 

Liam. Liam. Kind gentle Liam. His best friend. The one that had always been there for him, no matter what. The one he might have been secretly crushing on for who knows how long. The one that didn't even want to come back here, but did anyways since they wanted to, because he was just that kind of friend. Oh god. His breath escaped him in a brittle whine.

 

Louis was drawn out his shock by the sound of a boy breaking down next to him. The cup shook in his hand, sloshing liquid onto the counter, so he quickly sat it down. But his hands continued to tremble. He glanced back up at Niall, who had spun back around to face them, his face looking startled by Zayn's reaction.

 

"No... no, no!" The boy ran a hand through his hair, before bringing it back down and all but wringing them. "I mean yes, but no!" He looked pained, tears welling up in his eyes as well as Zayn continued to sob into his hands.

 

Louis stared at him, he wasn't making any sense. "What do you mean no?"

 

Niall's eyes flicked to him and then back at Zayn, before meeting his' again. "Uhmm... well, he's... well... " he stammered out, biting at his lip.

 

Louis ceased all movements, coolly looking back at him as he waited for him to elaborate.

 

The vamp fidgeted under his gaze, before sighing and looking back down at the floor. "It's probably, uhmm, best if I just... showed you." He quickly left the room, leaving Louis to drag Zayn from his stool. The boy blinked back at him through his tears, looking just as confused as he felt.

 

 

They were led into a chamber they'd never been into, far underneath the manor. It was windowless but flickered brightly to the glow of a forest of candles. Simon and Harry sat at one end of it, in matching high-back stone chairs, looking like two dethroned lords. And in the middle stood a dais of marble, and Liam was laid out upon it.

 

They stepped into the room as Niall closed the door behind him. Harry looked up, bags under his eyes. Zayn took a hesitant step closer, glancing at his weary face and back at the still form of Liam. He looked ghastly pale, his naked body covered partly by a sheet. But his wounds were gone.

 

He reached out, touching the boy's skin. It felt just as cold.

 

"What's going on?" Louis whispered behind him, looking down at their friend.

 

The candles flickered around them, as if by an unfelt breeze as Simon replied, "We'll know by tonight."

 

"But is he...?" Louis trailed off, not knowing how to voice the words.

 

"Yes and no," Simon replied cryptically. "We couldn't save him, but we did the best that we could."

 

Zayn swallowed heavily as he touched the boy's face. He looked peaceful, just like they always did in the movies. When they were dead.

 

He looked up at Harry, and something flickered in his eyes for a moment and then it was gone again, replaced by a cool mask. Zayn wiped at his eyes, his eyelashes caked with tears.

 

"It is probably best if you waited upstairs. Niall, how about you make them some breakfast." Simon nodded at them in a plain dismissal.

 

The boys nodded in turn as they were led from the room. Niall shut the heavy door behind them.

 

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

 

 

Pain. 

Searing pain awoke him.

It felt like every cell in his body was breaking apart – only to fuse back together in a kaleidoscope of agony.

 

He was screaming, he knew he was. Though he couldn't hear it. He blinked open his eyes and a scorching sun seemed to burn into his retinas, so he squeezed them shut again while letting out a sob.

 

Writhing on whatever he was lying on, some part of him was relieved he could move again. But a larger part was only desperate to escape it.

 

Strong hands were holding him in place now, and he struggled against them as a convulsion shook him, scraping along his insides like a rusty rake.

 

He couldn't take it, he couldn't take this pain. _He needed to get out_ , his mind was yelling at him. And he felt himself give out another scream as he let go, grasping onto that feeling he'd had once before.

 

His whole body seemed to vibrate with it, oscillating wildly for a moment, and then it was gone. All of it. And he was floating again, free, and looking down. Down at his body, pale and being cast in the flickering lights and shadows of a sea of candles. Dark shapes were holding it down but it had gone still. One of them raised his head and seemed to look directly at him, at whatever he was now floating above them.

 

"Shit, he's vacated again," the boy spoke, still looking straight at him.

 

The other shape nodded, not raising his face. "It is as I had feared. We will have to try to bind him with blood. Fresh blood. Niall, bring one of the boys." Liam's gaze was drawn to the blonde standing in a corner, who gave a jerky nod before dashing from the room. "Harry, bring him back in here and hold him."

 

Liam caught the boy's stare, a cold determination in his eyes. And he felt the threads coming to reach for him, entrapping him in a snare. There was nothing gentle about them now, and he wanted to struggle or flee... or disintegrate... anything but have to go back to the pain.

 

But the pull just intensified, as if sensing his desperation. The boy's eyes seemed to be burning into him, glowing with a vibrant green light, and he turned away, seeking an escape through the walls. But they shifted before his eyes, turning into curls of smoke and flaming ash, crackling around him with a callous hiss, promising something much more ominous than the mere pain of a broken body.

 

He backed away, and they came closer, and he backed away again – feeling a flick of it against his skin. But no, it couldn't be his skin, that was lying down there on the table. No, this thing, this cloud, whatever it was, it was encroaching on his very soul.

 

With a sickening plunge and a swoop he was back on the plank again, in the body being torn to shreds and rebuilt from the ground, yet the shadows were gone. Mercifully. But he was screaming again. He could hear it now.

 

 

Niall came bursting into the room and the boys nearly dropped their glasses again as the door hit the wall.

 

They'd pretty much spent the day... well, day-drinking. But it hadn't done much good, their bodies seemingly deciding they needed to be sober no matter what.

 

So now they stared at the boy, unmercifully aware and clutched their glasses while they waited for him to speak.

 

"Uhmm... " the boy said, running a hand through his hair and quickly losing the determination of his entrance.

 

"Yes?" Louis narrowed his eyes at him, setting his glass down.

 

"Well... " Niall was rocking up and down on his toes while moving his hands around like he didn't know what to do with them.

 

"Oh for godsake just spit it out!" Louis burst out with, having reached his breaking point.

 

The boy took a deep breath before letting out – " _Liamschangingbuthewontstaybecausehewaslikedeaddeadandweneedfreshbloodtobindhimsooneofyouhastovolunteer_ " in a mumbled rush.

 

"What?" Louis blinked at him.

 

"I'll do it." Zayn was off the couch and heading towards Niall before Louis could even process.

 

He blinked at the empty room a few times, before reaching out to down the rest of his glass and getting up to follow them downstairs.

 

 

The sight that greeted Zayn was much worse than he could have imagined. Liam was being held down by two vamps, but they were still having a hard time of it. He was thrashing and twisting around on the dais in painful violence, hitting the stone with dull cracks with each spasm. And the screams. Oh god, the screams. No human throat should have been able to utter such sounds.

 

Niall led him around to the front of it, and he peered down at the boy, his face locked into a grimace of torture. He looked at Simon and Harry, but they paid him no mind, staring instead intently at the boy firmly in their grasps. He looked at Niall, who tried to nod at him encouragingly but looked just as freaked out as he was.

 

"Uhm, how do I... ?" He lifted his wrist, glancing at Liam and then back at Niall a bit helplessly.

 

"Uhmm... oh! Oh right." The boy caught his wrist and leaned toward it.

 

Zayn hissed in an inhale though his nose as he braced himself for the puncture, but it didn't come. The blonde straightened up again, looking a bit apologetic as he pulled him away from the table.

 

"Sorry, I can't seem to be able to do that right now." The boy waved at his mouth, his back to his maker. He withdrew a blade instead and brought it down swiftly before Zayn could pull away. It was deep and the blood started flowing quickly, but the damage hadn't caught up to his mind yet.

 

"Alright." Niall pulled him back to the table, holding his wrist up for him and making the blood drip down onto Liam's lips. The boy's spasms stopped immediately, but his eyes remained closed.

 

Liam. Oh Liam. Zayn stared at him as Niall slowly brought his wrist further and further down.

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

 

 

 

Louis entered to the sight of Zayn's blood flowing down. Drippy drop it went, a flowing ruby red in the candlelight, falling down upon pale lips. Niall was holding his wrist in place, the other hand holding open the mouth of the body on the table.

 

And it looked dead, laying there on the dais. _Liam._

 

He swallowed as he took a step closer, but his movements went ignored. He might as well have been a ghost; watching a shade replay itself from another plane.

 

Standing there at the foot, he could only watch. Watch as they tried to revive Liam, and bring him back... as something else. So they hadn't been able to save him after all.

 

His hands touched the cold marble, his fingers trembling as they took hold. So this was it.

 

He watched as Zayn's wrist was pushed down further and further, until it connected with those pale lips. And the body arched off the dais.

 

 

Zayn let out a hiss when Liam began to pull. It wasn't like it had been before, there wasn't the sweet opiate that tempered the burn. It just hurt. The pull. The feel of his blood leaving him quicker than intended. But he didn't pull away. He looked down at the boy, at his friend – his eyes still closed but awakened now.

 

The pull became stronger, and he had to steady himself with his free hand to keep from collapsing. On and on it went, and Niall came to steady him from the side. He let out shaky breaths against the pain, his heart beating in a frantic drummer's dance – faster and faster.

 

Liam's hands shot up to keep his wrist in place, gripping it tight against his lips while his eyes remained closed. There was a moan against his skin, and then he could feel it. A tongue against his wound and then the slick slide of fangs.

 

Zayn's heart sputtered in his chest as it sent a chill through him, and a tear slipped down his cheek. So this was it.

 

A hum and a lick, and then, the sharp blossom of pain as they sunk in. Zayn let out a broken gasp at the burn, and then the pull intensified.

 

Liam was suckling on his wound, on him, and yet he held still, letting him feed.

 

He felt himself weakening as the blood quickly drained out of him, but he leaned down and placed a kiss on the boy's brow. Liam hummed against his wrist.

 

His vision was starting to swim at the blood loss, but the thought of pulling away didn't even cross his mind. He wanted to give him this. It was the least he could do. But he was starting to get cold. So cold.

 

"Alright, enough." Strong arms wrenched him away, dislodging the grip on his wrist. He heard the growls from the table as he was shoved down into a chair, watching as Liam began to thrash again on the dais.

 

Blinking against the lights, his last thoughts were of wanting to go back to him, to ease his pain. But it was so hard... so hard to keep his eyes open. He blinked against it, trying to stay awake... _try to stay awake_...

 

 

Louis watched as Zayn slumped down on the chair, obviously drained. He looked around the room and suddenly all eyes were on him. Well except for Liam's, who was writhing around on the table in the danger of falling off. The only thing keeping him from doing so were Simon and Harry, silently holding him down.

 

Niall was looking at him now, pain in his eyes. But something else as well... hope?

 

Louis swallowed as he slowly made his way to the head of the table. It felt like an eternity, Liam's guttural cries ringing in his ears all the way. He bared his arm, tugging his shirt up in an abrupt motion. So it was his turn.

 

Standing over the boy while Niall fidgeting at his side, he let the moment drop in his gut. Taking a breath in he placed his wrist down on Liam's lips, not needing to be guided. The boy stilled against it, and Louis could feel him taking a deep inhale before his lips parted.

 

Before he could brace himself for it, fangs were lodged in his tender flesh, tearing roughly before being followed by a needy pull. There was nothing gentle about it, nothing of the finesse he'd been accustomed to. It was just hunger. Raw need.

 

Louis let out a hoarse whine, his eyes watering at the burn. And Liam pulled, relentlessly, his hands coming up to clutch against his wrist just like they had Zayn's.

 

He tried to breath against it, but it was just too much. Too quick. His eyes watered to the point of spilling over, and running down his cheeks. He lowered his head, and they ran down to drop on the boy's face in thick drops. Split. Splat.

 

Liam finally opened his eyes at this, as if shook out of a haze. He continued to suck at the wrist against his mouth, but his eyes slowly focused on Louis. But they were vague, dilated to the point of black and filled with a feral lust.

 

Louis stared back down at him, hoping to find some semblance of recognition there as he continued to let him feed. But the boy just readjusted his bite, making the blood flow quicker.

 

Letting out a cry, Louis blinked at the ceiling against his tears, before looking back down and running a hand through the boy's hair.

 

"Liam. Liam," he croaked out, "Come back to us." He stroked the boy's face, trying to ignore the searing pain all his nerve endings seemed to be shooting out in alarm. "Liam. Stop," he whispered down at him, making no move to remove his wrist.

 

The boy blinked up at him, and his eyes slowly seemed to clear a bit. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pull lessened.

 

Louis shivered as fangs were withdrawn, fighting the urge to pull his wrist away. A tongue swiped against it, but still suckled at his wound, catching every drop of blood with a gentler pull. The sudden tenderness made Louis want to press into it, feeling that welcomed tingle alighting in his groin.

 

Though just as he was starting to relax into it, it stopped all together and the hands let up their desperate clutch on his wrist. Louis continued to stoke his hair, looking calmly down at him as he withdrew his arm. He stroked a thumb along the boy's bruised lips, brushing away the smeared blood as Liam stared back at him, horror starting to fill his eyes.

 

All at once he let out a chocked cry and curled in on himself on the dais, rocking to and fro as his body was racked with sobs. A broken sacrifice.

 

Louis looked around the room before he climbed up on the table with him, drawing the boy in a tight hug. Liam remained rigid for a moment, holding himself away. But Louis continued to hold him close until he eventually let out a shudder and sunk into him limply, coming to weep into his shoulder.

 

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

 

 

 

Awash in the sea. It rocked him gently, to and fro. Softly lapping all around him, warm swirls caressing his skin. He felt good. Better than he had in years. Maybe better than he could ever remember.

 

Relaxing into it, he felt the gentle pull of the riptide teasingly taking back the gritty grains of sand beneath him, tugging at him in turns, before pushing back in with a pleasant stroke. It felt glorious – the sand, the water, the sun on his face.

 

But there was something wrong... something in the way the waves were moving. A spray of it splashed on his face and he chocked on the saltwater as it entered his mouth. It burned as he coughed it up, and suddenly he was overcome with thirst. His throat was so dry, so very dry. Like he had been stumbling through an arid desert without a drop in sight, and his throat was swelling, threatening to close up on itself if he didn't get some water soon. Oh sweet, precious water. Nectar of the gods.

 

He turned in the ocean, struggling for purchase in order to get back to the beach, but all at once the riptide strengthened, pulling every little piece of sand out from under him and he was sinking into the crevasses the waves had left before being pulled out to sea in one swift tug.

 

But he could still hear the seagulls circling above him as he was slowly pulled down beneath; their cries echoing over the waves with mocking pearls of laughter.

 

 

Laughter. He blinked and there he was, at the breakfast table with his family – his parents, his two older sisters. It was Christmas morning, and they were all home for once. Just like old times.

 

A winter's sun was coming through the window in a warm glow and his mum was passing a jug of juice to one of his sisters. Easy banter filled the air and he relaxed into it, glad for the peace, the nostalgy.

 

His dog nuzzled at his hand, begging to be petted, and he smiled as his hand caressed the familiar fur. Soon they'd open presents, one at a time, and take way too long in doing so because they always did look better wrapped. Or maybe because they just wanted to prolong the moment. Sometimes they still had some things to open on day two or three.

 

His sister came to pass him the jug and he reached for it, but she drew back at the last moment. A frown-line came to etch itself on her forehead, and she shook her head. He tried to reach for it again, suddenly overcome with the need to fill his glass but his hand passed right through like a wisp of smoke.

 

Looking around the table, his heart shuddered as the colors seemed to slowly drain like a spilled oil painting; his family's faces coming to be smudged and contorted as if by a careless brushstroke. He tried to hold on to them, to put them back into proper place, but they were quickly melting in grotesque drips before fading before his eyes. Fading to black. And abruptly he remembered that his dog was long dead.

 

 

He blinked against it, the darkness, the pain in his throat. But there was the feeling of a hand stroking his face, and it at least felt real. Slowly he came back to, together with an odd stirring in his groin. Suddenly, he wanted... desperately. But what?

 

Blinking open his eyes against a swirl of sparkling red and white that was blinding in its intensity, he felt himself giving out a hum and leaning in against a warm hand. It smelled so good. He nuzzled further into it, and was startled by a click and a shot of pain in his gums.

 

He tongued it, running against familiar teeth before brushing up to a canine that seemed horrendously out of place in his mouth. Impossibly long... and sharp.

 

Liam's eyes snapped open for real this time, locking gazes with Louis, who was looking back at him calmly. The scent of blood assaulted his nostrils, so beckoningly sweet. It sent another roll of arousal to his groin and he pulled back with a jerk, making out the puncture wounds only barely clotted on the boy's wrist. He pulled back again sharply as the stirring inside of him only intensified at the sight and promptly fell off whatever he'd been lying on.

 

"Liam, Liam, are you okay?" Louis' worried voice came from above him, as he blinked back up at the boy peering around edge of the dais.

 

He tried to get his mouth to cooperate for a reply, but it felt so awkward, the... fangs... _oh god_... so heavy in his mouth. They tore at the inside of his lip when he tried to speak.

 

"No," he finally got out, tasting his own blood in his mouth. And his eyes filled with tears.

 

"Come on." Gentle hands lifted him off the floor, and he looked into steady blue eyes as he stumbled to his feet. "Let's get you cleaned up and sorted." Niall smiled at him as he swiped a thumb along his lips and placed an arm around his back.

 

Liam looked back at him with what he knew was probably frantic despair, but the blonde only nodded before leading him from the room. And he couldn't help but lean into him all the way, having reached his breaking point.

 

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

 

 

 

Niall rubbed a fluffy towel over the boy's head, drying him off from the bath. He slipped him into a robe next, having to lift each arm to do so. Tying the cotton belt at the waist, he could feel the boy trembling beneath his hand. He wouldn't stop shaking or vacantly staring at the floor to his feet, and the sight of it tore at his undead heart.

 

It hadn't been so long since Niall had been in the very same place. So it was perhaps fitting that he'd been assigned to help him through this. Because he could still remember what it had felt like. The change, the hunger, the utter despair when it finally hit you just what you had become. And that there was no going back.

 

But at the same time it scared him like nothing else. Here he was, supposed to guide Liam through something he had barely gotten a handle on himself. Why, his little slip-up with Louis alone could attest to how not ready he was for this.

 

But he had to be. For Liam. Liam who had been forced into this in the most cruel way possible. The one without a choice.

 

"Come." He tugged at the boy's arm and the body responded, though he could tell his mind was elsewhere. Locked in shock no doubt. So he led him through the room and up the stairs, up and up, to his little hideaway beneath the roof.

 

Pushing open the door he led him in and closed the door behind them. He turned to find Liam standing in the center of the room like a forgotten pet, subdued, except for every once in a while when a slight tremor would rack his body.

 

Niall came to him, pulling at his wrist and leading him towards the bed.

 

"Lie down," he softly commanded and the boy obeyed. He curled up next to him, drawing the covers over them both. "It'll get better, I promise," he whispered against his shoulder. He could feel another shudder against his lips, and a chocked sob caught his ear.

 

"Hey, hey." He slunk an arm over the boy's torso and hugged him tight. "For what it's worth, know that you are not alone. You'll never be alone again." He kissed up the boy's shoulder and placed another on his temple, before resting his head in the crook of Liam's neck.

 

The boy let out a broken exhale, and Niall looked up to find him blinking against the ceiling. "Now sleep," he told him as he tightened his hold. He knew the tears would come later, and he'd be there to see him through.

 

 

"So boys," Simon started, looking around the table where he'd summoned them. "I know this wasn't quite the outcome we had hoped for, but now that it is, we shall make the best of it." He looked around the table, vamps on one side, mortals on the other. Liam was seated between Niall and Harry, staring dejectedly down at the tabletop.

 

"Niall, I don't need to remind you to stay at his side at all times. And I do mean _all times_." The boy glanced up at him before quickly nodding, his hands fidgeting along the corner of the table.

 

"Harry, I'll need you on patrol. We've discussed what needs to be done, in case..." Harry just gave a brisk nod in response, his expression stony.

 

"And boys..." Zayn and Louis tore their eyes away from their friend across the table to meet Simon's. "I think it best if you remained here for a little while, until we got this... sorted. I'll have your families notified that you've been... detained." The boys nodded, before glancing back at Liam.

 

"What... " All eyes were on Liam as he finally spoke. He dropped his gaze back to the table as silence filled the room.

 

"Yes?" Simon prompted.

 

"What... " Liam exhaled heavily before continuing, "What will you tell them? About me?" His eyes darted to Simon's quickly, before finding the table again.

 

"Hmm... what would you like me to? A job perhaps? A college acceptance overseas? Or that they forget you entirely?"

 

Liam's hands clenched on the table at the words, and Niall reached up to place his on top of the boy's. They were rigid underneath his fingers.

 

"Whatever you decide, one thing is for certain. You cannot see them again... at least not for a very very long time."

 

The stark words hung heavy in the room, filled only by Liam's shaky breaths. Niall stroked his thumb along the hand underneath his, watching the boy's face. He could only guess at what was going through his mind right now. For him it had been different, a clean cut. He'd never had much to give up after all.

 

"Whatever you think is best," Liam finally whispered out, curling in on himself at his own words.

 

"Very well." Simon stood up from the table, coming to brace his fingertips on the heavy oak. "I will be off then, and it might be a little while before I return. Another shipment should arrive shortly, to keep you three supplied. I want no live-feeding in the meantime. This needs to be sorted, and I want Liam under control when I get back."

 

Liam swallowed at the words, finally coming to glance at the boys across from him. They stared back at him with wide eyes, looking both scared and worried. But at least they still had a way out. They could still go back. Not like him.

 

The hand on his tightened, and he looked up at Niall, his warm blue eyes trying to give him reassurance. But he couldn't take it.

 

He got up from the table as Simon dismissed them and made his way from the room. He could hear Harry corralling his boys away, to keep them from following him. But Niall was at his side, a silent shadow. And they made their way into the depths of the manor, a grandfather clock ticking on in their wake. _Forever_ , it seemed to strike with its dulls clicks. _Forever, and forever, and forever_.

 

A sob finally broke through as the door closed behind them, quickly followed by another. And Niall was there in an instance, a strong arm around his waist.

 

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

 

 

 

If forever was a place, he had certainly found it. Tracing his hand along its walls, he felt its echos along his skin. Solid and unyielding, it seemed to reach out to him, ready to claim him as its own and never let go.

 

But forever was just an illusion. He caught the scent of it – brittle paint and decaying wood – the passage of time slowly carving away at it to the beat of each step. He scratched against it, feeling it give. It was all destined to crumble and eventually turn to dust, just like everything else... just like everything he'd ever know.

 

Niall was at his back, just like always. A silent shadow, making sure he didn't stray. That he didn't slip up.

 

He'd led him to the cellar, tearing open the bag with his own teeth before offering it to him. And he'd taken it willingly, the scent of it so beckoningly sweet that it had overridden whatever part of himself that wanted to recoil in horror. The thick liquid had gushed out to coat his tongue and he'd reveled in it, feeling his body calling out for it desperately. Rich and earthy, it had slid down his throat, his fangs springing out at the taste, his groin stirring in response.

 

It was in him now, part of him, whatever this was. He couldn't deny it. And blood was what it craved, the only thing his body responded to. Liam wanted to claw at himself to deny this truth. This addiction. But how could he deny the one thing that kept him alive? If alive was even a term he could still use.

 

His mind felt clouded, threatening to topple over on the teetering brink to madness. But the thing... the thing inside of him was stronger. It seemed to be lying in wait for it... for him to give in and let it take over. It whispered of sweet release if only he would let it, to take away all his anguish and despair, and replace it with something else. But what?

 

A slow curl like a flick of a serpent's tongue snaked inside of him, as if delighted by his question. And he knew he couldn't let it. He'd have to hold strong, even if it meant having to face it all and stare whatever it was straight in the face.

 

 

"Liam... _Liam_... you know if you need... we're here for you right?" Louis whispered into his neck, unaware of personal boundaries just as he'd always been. Zayn was on his other side, running a careless hand up his arm. And Liam wanted to die. Again.

 

That or bolt from the room to avoid them. Forever if he had to. It was just so... They just didn't _know_. He could hear the pulse of the blood thumping through their veins. Smell it wafting up from them. Feel the warmth of it against their skin, like a siren's call, making him ache for it. He threw his head back against the couch, letting out a soft groan, his fangs fully descended.

 

"Boys, give him a little space," Niall's voice rang out, disrupting their unintentional seduction.

 

The boys let out a grumble before scooting away, and Liam let out a hiss in relief. He blinked open his eyes and tried to focus on Niall before him, calmly looking back at him. It had been his idea, this reintroduction. Get him acclimated or whatnot. As much exposure as possible, a little each day, to the point where he could actually focus and hear what they were saying again above the sweet beating rhythm of their hearts. As it stood right now, that was still a little ways off.

 

"Liam. Liam." His voice brought him back again, and he blinked open the eyes that had fallen shut before lifting his head from the back of the couch with a groan.

 

Niall stared back at him, index fingers steepled at his lips. 

 

"Are you alright to continue? Just let me know if you need a break."

 

Liam let out a huff as he nodded, tonguing at his fangs. They seemed to be out all the time now, to be point where he'd started becoming accustomed to them. If only they didn't make speaking so difficult...

 

"Alright then. Now we're going to have to get those fangs in check," Niall continued, as if reading his mind. "They are under your control, just like, ehmm, some other parts of you can be."

 

Liam sat up a little, suddenly feeling like an awkward pubescent kid again. Nothing to sober him up like comparing his fangs popping down to embarrassing impromptu boners.

 

"So just, like, relax, and let it go, like an unwanted thought being shot out into space... maybe on a missile, one that explodes," Niall went on, suddenly sounding like a therapist. A vamp therapist. Liam had to chuckle at the thought.

 

But the blonde just ignored him as he continued, "And when it comes back again, just send it right back out again. And again if need be. Don't dwell on it, don't let it fester, don't beat yourself up about having it in the first place. Just again and again, as soon as it comes, until it's gone and you think of something else. Then you'll probably congratulate yourself for not thinking about it, and start right back at step 1. But whatever, just repeat."

 

Liam nodded, trying to follow his advice. But it was hard. All his thoughts seemed to be circling around blood – about how wrong wanting it was, how much he hated himself for wanting it, but _oh_ how much he wanted it.

 

But Niall was right, the more he freaked himself out for even having these thoughts in the first place, the stronger they got, as if perversely eager to take a hold in his psyche just because he was so desperate to rid himself of them.

 

So he tried and tried, breathing heavily behind closed eyes, shooting them away again and again, trying to clear his mind. It was a struggle, none like he'd ever known before. And he knew it would always be there, lying in wait for him at every turn – a fight that could never be truly won. But he relaxed into it, letting it go. And with a slow pull and a dull sting, he felt his fangs retract.

 

Liam blinked open his eyes to find Niall beaming back at him. He had to smile in turn, showing off a normal set of teeth for once. The blonde lunged forward to envelope him in a tight hug, calling out, "I'm so proud of you Liam! We'll get you through this, you'll see."

 

 _Click_. Liam jerked back as his hand flew up to cover his mouth and stared up at the blonde with big brown eyes. He could hear the boys laughing on either side of them, and he turned his head to shoot them glares. Although the fact that he was still hiding his fangs as he did so only made them laugh harder.

 

"Don't worry about it, just go back to the beginning." Niall smiled reassuringly as he eased back, coming to sit next to him and half on Louis' lap.

 

"Yes, Liam, again and again." Zayn smirked as he threw an arm over the couch behind the boy's head.

 

"Yeah, Liam, keep shooting those... why do I suddenly feel so turned on?" Louis quipped as he played with the hem of Niall's shirt.

 

" _Ugh_ , you guys, seriously! Come on." Niall jumped off the couch and pulled Liam up with him. "Guess that's enough for now. We'll try again later," he sighed as he dragged his ward from the room.

 

"Yes, no worries. We'll be here," Louis called after them, and Liam glanced back to find them both giving him cheeky smiles. It made him feel a little better, their carefree support. As long as he didn't let himself dwell too much on _oh_ , just about everything else. Like how much... _no_. Missiles! Exploding in space! _Right_...

 

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

 

 

 

"So... what's the plan for today?" Zayn smirked at them as he took a sip of his juice, the morning sunlight highlighting his features.

 

Liam abruptly tore his gaze away from the perfection – that glowing specimen of life – coming to stare at the mug of warmed blood in his hands instead. He was sandwiched between Niall and Harry, safely across the table from the boys. It was a bit of an awkward breakfast, what with the three of them cradling their liquid breakfast, while Louis and Zayn spooned up cereal.

 

He brought the mug to his lips, the clang as his fangs hit the side of it embarrassingly loud in the quiet kitchen. Glancing at Niall, he couldn't figure out how he did it. Sipping at his drink like it was a mundane cup of tea, and not like every little drop of it was making his insides twist up in delight, ready to upend it in one gulp and hurl the cup against the wall to a satisfying crash. Liam took another little sip, trying to steady his breathing.

 

"Yeah, what's the plan?" Louis croaked out, his voice sounding raspy.

 

Niall set his blood down with a clang, "Lou, are you alright? You're not coming down with a cold are you?" He was up in an flash, coming to hover next to the boy and reaching out a hand to check for fever.

 

Louis shied away from him, protesting, "I'm fine, really." But the hoarseness of his answer just made Niall lean in further.

 

"I can make you some tea? Honey lemon? Maybe some ginger?" the blonde pressed.

 

Zayn meanwhile was trying not to choke on his drink.

 

Liam studied them both, watching as Niall looked between them in confusion.

 

"No really, I don't want you to get sick," he continued on as he swiped at the boy's fringe and pressed his hand against his forehead. Louis finally let him, looking a little mortified.

 

Zayn let out a series of coughs, waving a hand before his face as he tried to regain his breath.

 

"Niall... " Liam tried to intervene, having caught up with Zayn.

 

But the blonde wouldn't listen, too worried about a boy in his care falling ill. He watched as Niall steadied himself, feeling him pull up the links, probably checking for damage.

 

And Liam let out a gasp as the colors sprung to life before his eyes. It was as if they were suddenly encased in shimmering auras, sparkling whites and flickering golds. Liam gripped at the table, glancing at Harry who was sitting quietly beside him. Was this what it was like for them? He'd only ever know it from the other side, as a vague sort of feeling. But could they see it?

 

He blinked back at Niall and Louis, watching the exchange in wonder. It was so beautiful. The way Niall's was swirling around Lou's, teasing and caressing, a gentle stroke over his soul. Louis had closed his eyes, letting him look. Niall let out a hum, finding everything in order, before finding the real source of the problem.

 

"Oh... _**oh**_!" Niall quickly stepped back, trying to cut the connection. Liam watched him glance at Zayn, who was giving him a half-smirk, and back at Louis, who was now hiding his face in his hands. "Well, uhmm, I... I could probably still make you a tea for that. To soothe that... tender throat."

 

Zayn let out a bark of a laugh, before hiding his smile with his glass.

 

Liam had to grin at them, glancing over at Harry who was trying to hide a smirk of his own.

 

But something was wrong. Niall had still not been able to close the connection completely, obviously a little frazzled by the whole exchange. It was dancing around the room now, seeking them out in turn.

 

Liam was starting to get a little light-headed as the colors began to swim before his eyes. He looked at Harry again, finding him studying him with a frown before he turned to Niall. "Cut it off Niall," he heard him say, and Liam sought out the blonde, finding him looking back with wide eyes.

 

"Harry, I'm trying... "

 

" ** _Now_** , Niall."

 

Liam blinked at the table, suddenly feeling a bit queasy. This wasn't right. His body was starting to pound, his vision flickering before his eyes as if he was three shades to the wind. He couldn't seem to focus on anything, an odd swooping back and forth taking hold of him as if he was trying to stay in two places at once.

 

"Shit," he heard someone say beside him as a pulsating rush overtook him, and yanked him up.

 

 

"Liam! Liam! Can you hear me?" a voice called out urgently, making his ears throb.

 

Liam squeezed open his eyes, blinking against the light and letting out a hiss.

 

"Oh thank god," he heard a voice exclaim.

 

"God? Don't tell me a vamp still believes in a god." The cheeky voice unmistakable.

 

"Oh shut up Lou." Zayn's drawl.

 

"I'm just saying... "

 

"Lou."

 

"Fine, whatever."

 

Liam let out a groan, trying to sit up. Hands pushed him back down and he blinked up to find Niall's worried face hovering above him.

 

"How are you feeling? Everything back in place?"

 

Liam groaned again, a headache hammering against his skull. Figured even being a vamp couldn't rid his body of such unpleasantness.

 

"What happened?" he muttered, rubbing at his temples.

 

"Why don't you tell us?" Harry's voice beside him, calm and gentle.

 

Liam opened his eyes again, trying to focus on the boy's faced but it was still swimming a bit. "I... there was just so much... too many colors."

 

"Colors?" the boy prompted.

 

"Yeah, when Niall opened the line. They were everywhere. I didn't know it was like that for you guys."

 

The room fell silent at his words, and as he tried to sit up again Niall let him this time. He looked around the room, catching the vamps' worried exchange.

 

"Wha? You mean... you mean you don't see them?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper in his panic.

 

"No," Harry replied, looking him in the eyes. "No, we don't."

 

Liam dropped back down on the couch with a grimace, his head starting to escalate from unpleasant throbbing to full on migraine. "And let me guess, vamps don't get headaches either, do they?" he let out, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain.

 

The room fell silent again at his statement, which he took as answer enough. Figured he'd end up like this, a botched job.

 

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

 

 

 

It would seem he'd now grown two shadows, hovering behind him as he made his way through the house. There at every step behind him, at every turn. It was setting him on edge just having them trailing so close behind him. He didn't need to be so carefully watched, he really didn't. It wasn't like he was going to just snap and tear his friends' throats out at any moment. Or maybe he was, if they didn't stop crowding up on his space soon. Sure, he longed for it, well, for the blood at least, not the accidentally draining his mates of course, but it was more of a dull hum, ever present.

 

"Uhmm... " He stopped abruptly and turned to look at them. Niall with a worried expression that was threatening to become permanently edged on his face, Harry's with a scrutinizing scowl. "You know, I'm fine really? You don't need to watch me 24/7." Niall shifted before him, worrying at his lip. "Okay, I know you do Niall, because Simon told you so." Niall looked a little relieved and stopped his fidgeting. "But you Harry? Don't you have like, uhmm, better things to do?" He hoped the boy didn't take that as a slight, but seriously, shouldn't he be watching out for the boys or something? In case there was another attack?

 

"Yes," Harry let out plainly, making Liam still. "But there's something I have to check." He advanced on him, grabbing his wrist before pulling him along. "Niall, go guard the boys," he let out as he dragged him along, and Liam looked back at the blonde who remained standing in the middle of the corridor looking back at him, before hesitantly turning around.

 

 

"Yo, what's up?" Zayn raised his head from Louis' lap as Niall entered the room. Another spliff was dangling from his hand and the explosions of another action movie were ricocheting from the speakers.

 

"Harry's having a one-on-one with Liam. So I guess I get to... hang with you guys?" Niall stood in the room before them, watching the garish lights from the TV set flash across their faces.

 

Louis smirked at him, padding the side of the couch while he took a sip of his beer. "Well, hunker down then babysitter, we'd restart the movie, but there isn't much plot to have missed."

 

Niall sat down at the end of the couch, Zayn lifting his legs only to bring them back down on his lap. Louis cracked opened another bottle before passing it to him, and Niall took it, feeling it cold against his hand. He brought it to his lips, grimacing a little at the taste. He'd have to get them some better brew the next time he stocked up on supplies.

 

"So, what's going on with those two?" Louis asked, his eyes still focused on the screen.

 

Niall shot him a glance, not sure how to answer that. He felt a little lost himself, sent off from his ward at the first sign of trouble. Self-doubt racked him. Had he done a bad job? Did Harry have to step in because he'd somehow managed to mess it up? Yet he knew that whatever was happening to Liam was outside of his control, so he really shouldn't be blaming himself. He just hoped that Harry would be able to fix it.

 

"Not sure," he muttered between swigs. The boys shot him a glance as the explosions continued onscreen.

 

 

"Okay Liam, I want you to lie down and relax." Harry had led him to the library, and he went to recline on the couch at his command. It felt a little like a therapist session, the roman couch comfortable at his back.

 

"I'm going to open the links now and I want you to tell me when it gets too much. Especially when you feel like you're about to leave your body." Liam swallowed at the words. So that was what it was. The oscillation and the thumping. An outer-body experience. He was just desperate to get out of there, wasn't he.

 

Harry was silent beside him for a while, before he saw it. He saw it before he felt it. The streams coming to waft through the air, seeking him out. Flickering strands, shimmering and dancing through the air. They were different colors than before, not as bright. Strings of burnt umber, tarnished copper, corroded reds. They flicked along his skin, and he felt the hum again, calling out for him, and the pull quickened. He shut his eyes, trying to fight against it, trying to stay in his body this time. But it all seemed to whirl around him ever quicker, in a dizzying dance of swirls and flutters.

 

"Breathe Liam," he heard Harry say, and he tried. "Don't fight it, just let it in." And he tried to, tried to keep whatever part of himself that just wanted to escape locked down. To keep it in place. It being, what? His soul?

 

The strings came to seek him out, tugging at him. And he let them, breathing heavily at the onslaught. His breathing seemed to be the only thing keeping him in his body at the moment, a fragile hold. In and out it went, a conscious decision. In and out. In and out. He blinked at the ceiling, but couldn't make it out through the threads. He moved his head to look at Harry, finding him awash in his colors. But they looked off somehow. Not like he was an expert, but from what he'd seen on the other boys, his seemed different. Darker. Beyond the gentle curls of umber and copper there seemed to be frazzled vines of... black. They seemed to be tugging at the boy, with little barbs coming out to scratch at his other colors.

 

Liam squinted his eyes as he looked at him, his focus locking him in place past the breathing. "What happened to you?" he let out without meaning to. The boy met his gaze and pursed his lips. He didn't reply.

 

He looked at them as they swirled around him like an overgrown blackberry bush eager to crush everything in its path with the desperate need to grow. They were growing too quickly, out of bounds, and Liam reached out to cut them back like he would a weed. Not to exterminate but to curtail. To let the other plants have a chance as well.

 

Harry let out a gasp before him, and Liam blinked, not sure what he had done. But the black had lessened. Somehow. He did it again, liking the way the other colors shone up as soon as some of the black was cleared away. There was even a third now, hidden behind them all like a frightened child. It shone weakly, and Liam tried to make it out. What color was it? He coaxed at it, eager to see. It grew a little under his hand. Purple? Blue? Or something he'd never seen before? A little more, and he could...

 

"Liam, stop." Harry's voice brought him back to himself, and he tried to focus on his face through the fray. He felt Harry pulling back, taking that precious new color with him. But he wanted to see, so he pulled against it, not really sure how but he did.

 

"No. Liam stop." Harry's voice was sounding a little desperate, and he couldn't phantom why. Didn't he want to see it as well? It was so beautiful. He pulled again, casting the black aside with a wayward hand like a cloud of dust as he searched for it. He heard the boy gasp again but he paid it no mind. The color eluded him, like a winter's crocus lost in a field of snow. He stumbled through it, black and black and more black. He felt it like ash in his mouth. Harry, oh Harry, what is this?

 

Finally, like a needle in the hay he found it, glimmering weakly amongst the dim, and he pulled at it gently, coaxingly, its little light threatening to shy away from him at any moment. He crouched down in his mind, reassuring it with his light. Come out, come out, he coaxed, gently brushing away the barren ash around it. It glimmered before him, once, twice, retreating, before coming out again. Like a startled hare, testing the air for the scent of a predator. Slowly, it edged out and he remained still, waiting for it to accept his presence. Still, oh so still, he waited. And it came, oh so slowly, a hesitant step at a time, before reaching his hand. Beautiful it was, nuzzling at him. And he could finally make out its color.

 

 

With a sickening crack he was thrown back against the wall. His body collided with it, sending a sharp shot of pain through his spine and the back of his head. He blinked open his eyes as he slid down, trying to clear his vision through the pain to make out Harry's shape standing in the middle of the room, his hands balled to fists. He looked furious.

 

"What happened to you?" He managed to groan out, catching the green glinting in the boy's eyes as they narrowed.

 

"I said, stop." His voice came out calm, belling the fury in his eyes.

 

"But... " was all Liam got out, before finding himself pulled up and slammed against the wall again. There was a hand at his throat holding him up as his feet dangled off the floor and a chocked gurgle escaped him before they clamped down harder.

 

He clutched at the hand holding him as his mouth opened with a plea. But no sound would come out, the cinch on his throat saw to that.

 

His eyes watered as his vision swam and he could feel the frantic pounding in his chest as his body called for oxygen. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if this was even true. If he even needed the air anymore. But right now it felt all too real – the panic as he was slowly suffocated.

 

He tried to hold the gaze of the other boy, trying to convey how sorry he was. He hadn't meant to pry, he'd just been so curious. He hadn't known what he was doing. But the grasp on his throat just tightened; the look in vamp's eyes frighteningly blank. His threads were still swirling around him, looking more like dark wings as they splayed behind him.

 

 _Shit_ , Liam thought to himself, struggling against the hold in earnest now. _He's snapped_. His lungs were starting to burn, and he knew if he didn't do something now it would be too late. So he reached out in his panic, and pulled to catch him off balance, before pushing with all he had. It worked, somewhat, as Harry stumbled and released him, and as Liam slid to the ground gasping for breath, he pushed again, entwining his hands in the connection in the process. It knocked Harry to the ground with a crash, pulling a tea table down with him and making the precious china on top of it come to shatter on the floor.

 

Liam's breath came out in heavy pants as he got to his feet a bit unsteadily. He eyed the door across the room as Harry got to his feet, a half-smirk coming to play on his lips. _Fuck_. Liam's heart started to palpitate in his chest as the boy advanced. This was so not good.

 

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

 

 

 

Niall was being dragged down into the lull of the movie when he heard it. A bang, and not one from the explosion on the screen. No, this had come from further away, from somewhere in the house. He sharpened his ears, trying to listen in, but the sounds from the TV were distracting.

 

"Boys, turn it down," he told them, but they didn't react, mellowed by the weed and the mindless entertainment. So he reached for the remote instead and put it on mute. They protested, drawn out of their stupor, but he shushed them. And listened. A few breaths, and there it was again.

 

Letting out a curse, he got up and quickly left the room, hearing the creaking of the sofa as the boys slowly got up to follow behind him.

 

 

Liam stood paralyzed as Harry slowly advanced on him. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he couldn't seem to move. Green eyes bored into his, and as they came closer he watched with morbid fascination as they slowly darkened, the pupils blowing wide as they took him in.

 

With a swoop he found himself pinned to the wall again harshly, nails cruelly digging into the skin of his wrists as they held him in place. He was face to face with him now, feeling the fury rolling off the vamp like a wave. And some part of him wanted to give in to it, to let him hurt, to dominate and put him back in his place. Dark eyes watched him, a sly smile slowly opening to reveal glistening fangs. They were coming closer and Liam could feel himself on the verge of surrendering.

 

But suddenly something grew inside of him. A quiet fury of his own. Not for being taken down a peg, because he knew he deserved that. But for the fact that this being, Harry, was so out of control. He was supposed to be their protector while Simon was away, the eldest, the most mature, the role model. And here he was more volatile than any of them.

 

Harry continued to push, all but snapping his fangs at him, and Liam lost it. He pushed him off, his strength surprising him but he didn't let himself wonder at it as he swiftly knocked the boy to the floor and went to hit him square in face. Harry seemed momentarily stunned but threw him off just as quick. Liam went flying, crashing into a bookcase and sending its contents tumbling down around him. Before he could come to his senses Harry was on him again, his eyes flashing with challenge. They grabbled, tugging and pulling at each other as they tore around the room, breaking who knows what in their path.

 

Liam hissed as his back connected with something sharp but he ignored it, too focused on the body on top of him. He hissed again as a fist connected with his face, his own fangs digging into the inside of his lips. He hadn't even noticed when they had descended.

 

They continue to wrestle against each other and Liam managed to get another good punch in at one point, glad that it stopped the boy for a brief second. But it was quickly returned, the scuffled rapidly escalating into a full on brawl. A chair got broken over his back, a priceless antique in all likelihood, and he returned it by knocking an ornate candlestick against the boy's face. It snapped back with a satisfying crack. Liam had time to smirk to himself before he found himself flat on his back again, being pummeled. His vision was starting to swim again as he brought his hands up to block the blows, but he was starting to feel it. He was losing.

 

 

Niall hurried down the corridor, the boys behind him trying to keep up. It was getting louder now, the sound of things breaking, the rate of it quickening. What the fuck had happened? Panic was starting to set in as he made his way up the stairs and around another corner. Why was this place so bloody big?

 

 

Harry was on top of him, straddling him as he leered down, pinning his wrist in place again. Liam narrowed his eyes up at him as he tried to buck up to dislodge him. But it did little good. The boy's threads were out again, the shadows of their winged spread threatening to block out the light of the room. But there was something else there now as well, probably brought on by the adrenaline of their shuffle.

 

Liam focused on that instead, pulling at it and watched in fascination as the boy on top of him closed his eyes with a sigh and tilted his head.

 

"Ugh, you're good at that," the boy sighed out, before looking back down at him through slitted eyes. They glinted green again for a moment, before darkening once more. "Who knew... " Harry leaned down, perilously close to his face.

 

Liam glared back up at him, his dead heart still beating furiously in his chest. _What a monster he is_ , he thought to himself. And to think, he'd left his boys in his care. Rage was building back up inside of him, and he let the boy know, in the only way he knew how.

 

It tore out of him, in a fury of red sparks, pelting at the darkness above him. Sparkling and fluttering, they seemed to singe the darkness above him.

 

"Ahh... " Harry sighed out. "Now that I can work with."

 

And Liam seized up as the boy leaned down and in one swift stroke, tore into his throat. He let out a huff at the rush, so different than before, but still so incredibly intense. His fangs seemed to ache in his mouth as his blood left him, his body desperately calling out in its wake. Harry let up after a moment, pulling back up to stare down at him coldly, blood coating his lips.

 

And Liam felt the urge in him welling up to a crescendo, it was too much, his self-control still a brittle thing. Harry smiled above him, probably reading the need plainly emblazoned on his face. And he brought his wrist to Liam's mouth.

 

Liam looked at him with wide eyes, breathing heavily though his nose as he tried to restrain himself. But Harry only pushed his wrist against him harder, and gave him a small nod.

 

It was more permission than Liam could resist, and he felt his fangs sliding in eagerly, the slow trickle of blood that sprang forth all but bursting to life on his tongue. His eyes dropped closed with a groan as the thick liquid ran down his throat. It was different than the stale blood from the bags, or even the half-remembered fresh blood from his making. No, it was something else entirely.

 

He groaned again as he pulled, feeling a chuckle against his neck, and his body arched up at fangs slid back into his skin. Something clicked into place then, a circle completed, and he was overwhelmed by the feeling.

 

 _Holy shit_.

 

 

Niall barged through the door, expecting the worst. The boys followed quickly after, all but knocking into him at his sudden stop. The sight that greeted them was one of chaos. The library looked like it had been hit by a hurricane, bookshelves toppled over, tables upturned, the floor littered with books and broken glass. A single torn page still fluttered in the air as they stood and stared. And there in the middle of it all lay Liam and Harry, feeding on each other.

 

He froze at the sight. How... how could Harry do this? What had possessed him? Liam was still a baby... and under his care! This was just... this was just so not okay. He could feel the tears burning in his eyes at the sight.

 

"Woot, Liam, get it," Louis let out cheekily behind him, and it was enough to shake him out of his shock.

 

Niall turned to give him a furious look, before turning back to the boys.

 

"Harry, **stop** ," he let out, trying for authoritative, but it came out a bit shakily instead. To his surprise, it seemed to work, as the boys on the floor stilled their actions.

 

Harry slowly got up, licking at his wrist before wiping at his mouth. He came to face them slowly, something flickering over his features before he gave Niall a nod, and quickly slunk out the door.

 

Niall was still at a bit of a loss as he let him pass, but he shook himself out of it before sprinting to Liam. The boy looked back up at him with dazed eyes, and he offered him his hand. Liam continued lying on the floor for a moment, before shakily raising his own. He pulled him up and placed the boy's arm around his shoulders as he made to lead him from the room, the boys falling in step behind them. This was going to be one hell of a clean up.

 

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

 

 

 

Louis was restless, stalking the corridors, all but ready to climb the walls. A somewhat unfortunate state of being, seeing that the boys were all currently scattered around the house absorbed in various crises of their own.

 

Niall had dragged Liam off somewhere to mother-hen him after his 'mauling', as he'd called it. And sure, the library had looked adequately decimated after, but Liam hadn't exactly looked like he'd been mauled. More like ravished. But hey, if it gave Niall another reason to be alone with him and search for cuts and bruises along every centimeter of his body...

 

A warm flutter in his groin brought Louis out of his daydream, and he ran a hand along the wooden railing as he ascended the stairs. He had half a mind to search out Zayn again to relieve his tension. It hadn't been so bad last time, even though the boy seemed to have no form of self-restraint. His throat was still a little sore from last time...

 

He stopped on the stairs, tempted to go back and search the boy out. He was probably out on the porch, smoking his never-ending supply of weed. He hesitated, letting the possible scenarios flick through his mind like a picture book, but his cock didn't seem to take much interest in any of them.

 

No, he needed something more. And there was just one person left that might be able to deliver. If he played his cards right of course. _Harry_.

 

The vamp had fled to who knows where – probably moping in the dark someplace. Louis just couldn't make heads-or-tails of him anymore. Ever since they'd arrived, he'd just been so different. Dark, brooding, locked in a self-contained capsule of himself.

 

Louis' memories were still a little vague on what had actually transpired that night back in town, but whatever Harry had done to save them had come with a heavy price. And now he just needed to know where they stood. If there was anything he could do to help him. Because he missed him.

 

Wrapping himself in his good intentions, he made his way down the corridor. _If I was a mopey vamp, where would I hide?_ he thought to himself, chuckling a bit at the image of Harry as a pissed-off bat hanging off a rafter somewhere. Checking doors left and right, he kept an eye out for the telltale flicker of light beneath the frames. Not that it would do him any good if the boy really was hiding in the dark.

 

Doors, doors, and more doors. This place really was impossible. Maybe Niall would know where to find him, but then again, that would mean knowing where the blonde was first in order to ask.

 

Another door, another empty room. Louis was getting frustrated, but that just sharpened his determination. _Think, Lou, think_ , he muttered to himself. He can't leave the mansion without risking Simon's wrath, so he still has to be somewhere close. And he probably wants to be alone, so it'll have to be someplace hard to get to.

 

Creeping vamps filled his mind – cellars, graveyards, shadowy placed – together with the creatures they usually got along with – swarms of bats, flocks of ravens... perching, flying, nesting...

 

 _Oh_. Louis wanted to smack himself for not getting there sooner. But how to actually get there?

 

 

A scratching on the facade followed by a 'fuck' brought him out of his musing. He was sitting in his favorite spot, back against a chimney and eyes out towards the ocean. The raging crash of the waves always helped to soothed him when things got too heavy.

 

But now someone was intruding. Niall? But no, he should be busy with his little ward right now. He turned his head, making out pale hands clutching at the gutter of the house. And the scent hit his nose, of boy, alive boy, filled with sun and sweet sweat, and even sweeter blood.

 

He had half a mind to ignore him, when the gutter gave a bit and the hands struggled for purchase.

 

Stupid fuck was going to get himself killed. Harry got up with a sigh, making his way slowly to the edge of the roof.

 

 

Louis had to concede that this wasn't going as well as he had planned. Not that he was afraid of heights or anything, but as his foot slipped again on the siding – sending some brittle mortar on its way down a four-story drop – he was starting to doubt himself.

 

He looked over his shoulder as it broke apart on the ground, and his hands were starting to sweat where they were desperately clutching onto the gutter. Uhmm, yeah, not so good.

 

He shuffled along, trying to get closer to someplace where he could pull himself up, when the weak nails holding the drain in place gave, leaving him hanging on to it while leaning back awkwardly over the side of the house. Another creak and it gave again. _Fuck_. He could feel his hands slipping, his palms tingling at the realization. He squeezed his eyes shut as it gave again, hoping the ground was closer than it looked. His fingers slipped... this was it. _Fuck fuck fuck_.

 

 

A strong hand grabbed his wrist, and he had time to look up into green eyes with eyebrows knitted together into a frown, before he found himself hoisted up and unceremoniously sent sprawling on the roof. He clutched at the shingles to keep from sliding off again.

 

"What do you think you're playing at?" Harry's voice came from above him, and Louis slowly scrambled to his feet on the uneven slope of the roof.

 

"I... I just wanted to check that you're alright," he found himself replying, having it come out a little higher than he intended it to.

 

Harry's face was impassive as he stood before him, the black of his coat seeming to drink up the pale moonlight. A fall's breeze came to tug at them, ruffling the boy's curls, and Louis suddenly remembered that he hadn't thought to bring a jacket of his own. He let out an involuntary shudder, if from the cold, or from the look in Harry's eyes, he wasn't sure.

 

The boy before him stirred at that, taking a deep inhale as he stepped closer. "We should get you down, it's much too dangerous up here."

 

"No," Louis answered without thought. He looked around the roof and at the impressive view. He could see everything from up here – the cliffs, the inlet, the woods. He shivered again as he took it in, taking a few steps towards the front of the house.

 

"Lou," came an agitated warning from behind him. He ignored it, holding onto a chimney as he stared out at the waves. The moon was highlighting the whitecaps, so far out at sea. They rolled and crashed; the scent of them carried to him by the breeze.

 

Another grumble from behind him as he took another step to the edge. He looked over it down at the driveway and idly wondered if Zayn was still on the porch smoking. And then another thought came as if out of nowhere. If he threatened to jump, would Harry try to stop him? Would he care? Goosebumps flushed to life on his arms, and he shivered again as he looked over his shoulder.

 

Harry was standing where he'd left him, motionless except for his coat that was flapping in the breeze, his expression the same.

 

Louis sighed to himself as he turned back to the ocean. It was all just so fucked up. Liam, and them. Part of him knew that he hadn't fully processed it yet, what it really meant. If such a thing could even be fully processed. And he couldn't begin to imagine what it must be like for Liam.

 

He'd been trying to make a joke of it, to keep the boy's spirits up because he knew Liam needed his friends there for him now more than ever. And he'd been trying his best, for Liam didn't need to hear about his uncertainties and doubts. Yet standing here now, alone on the roof except for a pissed-off vamp that obviously didn't want them here, he couldn't find much left to cheer himself up.

 

He eyed the edge again, toeing at the gutter. He doubted the fall would kill him, probably just break a few bones. It was a stupid thing to even be thinking about, but also oddly appealing in some weird way.

 

He was about to take another step, when there was suddenly warm fabric being pulled over his shoulders. He started, a bit surprised, and turned to find Harry behind him, now only in a t-shirt.

 

"Your temperature is dropping," the boy told him like he could see it happening. Well, who knows, maybe he could.

 

Louis pulled the coat more fully over his frame, trying not to be too conspicuous as he breathed in the scent that clung to it. It smelled of something warm and mellow, something safe. He raised just his eyes, finding Harry's expression a little altered. The furrowed brow was still there, but the look in his eyes had softened. They looked... sad?

 

He slid down and leaned back against the chimney, unknowingly picking Harry's favorite spot. Padding the place beside him, he looked back up at the boy.

 

Harry remained standing for another moment, looking at him before gazing back at the sea. Finally he let out a small huff and sat down, his shoulder brushing against Louis'.

 

And Louis tried to bite back the smile that was unwillingly tugging at his lips. It was nothing really, just a small start, but it was a start nonetheless.

 

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

 

 

 

Zayn watched the stars glimmered through the whiffs of smoke. He was seated on the porch's swing, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he pushed back against it, making the swing rock with a little creak. Back and forth it went, and he brought the joint back to his lips.

 

Inhaling, it burned in his lungs but he held it, a welcomed sensation. He smoked so much these days it didn't really hit him anymore, not like it once did. Just a mellow high, taking away the edge. Or edges, as there sure seemed to be a lot of them these days.

 

He was taking another inhale, closing his eyes to the feel of it dancing through his skin when he heard it. A scraping, a shuffle, something coming up the driveway.

 

Blinking at the lane before him, he regretted not bringing his glasses. For it was all a bit blurry as he tried to focus. But there was something... as shape... and it was moving towards the house. He stood up, realizing that being out alone on the porch may not have been one of his brightest ideas. Yet as he slowly made his way towards the door, something let him know that it was already too late. Like in one of those dreams, where he tried to run but found himself frozen in place.

 

 

"So, mind telling me what's up?" Louis asked the sky, not wanting to startle the boy from their momentary truce.

 

No reply came, and he glanced at him, finding Harry frowning at the ocean before them.

 

Louis sighed to himself. He'd never been much good at this sort of thing. He knew the boy was hurting for whatever reason, but what could he do to bring him out of it? How does one cheer up a vampire?

 

Deciding to switch tactics, he shifted his weight against the chimney, pulling Harry's coat tighter around him as he did so. The breeze was tugging at them again, and he could feel it ruffling his hair as he glanced back at the boy.

 

Harry finally met his gaze, his eyes dark and filled with... Louis swallowed at the sight.

 

"Harry..." he let out, his hand coming to trace the boy's face in a wayward gesture.

 

Harry flinched and he pulled his hand away again, as if burned.

 

Another moment of awkward silence, and then he tried again. "Harry, I know... I know this isn't what you wanted. But we're here now. For better or worse. Liam... well, he's got nowhere else left to go hasn't he? And we're his best friends. We're not going to leave him. Not matter what." He continued to stare at Harry's profile.

 

For a long time he wasn't sure if the boy had even heard, as he continued staring out before him. But then he took in a shaky breath, as if coming back to himself. And he slowly turned to look back at him. Louis heart might have stuttered a little as he waited for him to speak.

 

"I know," that husky voice breathed out. "And I'm sorry." Louis sat transfixed by his penetrating gaze. "I never meant any of this. I just didn't think... well... I guess I didn't think at all. Every little thing I've done has had consequences. Ones I never could have imagined."

 

Louis tried to listen to his apology, but his eyes had slipped down to the boy's lips, watching them come to carefully shape his drawn out words. He found himself leaning in without meaning to.

 

"But it's not your fault, at least not all of it. We had a choice, and we chose to come back," he whispered out a breath away.

 

Harry's eyes widened as the boy's hot breath ghosted over his lips. How was he...? It couldn't be. He should be free of his influence by now. He hadn't tasted his blood in weeks. But there he sat, looking at him like he was the only thing in the world.

 

He swallowed, trying to keep in control. Trying to keep from pulling the boy close and...

 

Harry drew away abruptly, before his lips could make contact with that fragile skin. When had he gotten so close?

 

Louis blinked opened his eyes in confusion, finding the vamp a safe distance away from him again.

 

"Harry..." his voice might have come out a little needy.

 

And Harry threw his head back against the chimney, not minding the way the collision smarted along his skull. He wanted, he wanted so much. But it was wrong, it was dangerous. And the boy had no idea what he was asking.

 

Sorrowful blue eyes continued to peer at him, most likely reaching all the wrong conclusions. That it was his fault, that he had done something wrong. That he just wasn't enough. Harry almost wanted to let out a laugh at this, and brush his worries away, but then he heard it.

 

 

Louis was swimming in a sea of self-doubt as he sat on the roof huddled in the boy's coat. It seemed like whatever he was, it just wasn't enough. Harry just continued to withdraw from him, and his heart ached as he sat so close but yet might as well have been on the other side of that raging ocean bashing against the shore. It just wasn't fair. Harry had picked him out after all, pretty much kidnapped him against his will, seduced and teased him, pulled in his friend as well. And now here he was, finally ready to return his feeling, and he got... nothing.

 

He wanted him, of that he was sure now. For better or worse. Mortal or vampire. But what does one do when a love seems to be one-sided? Had he only been a plaything? A passing fancy, amidst the tedious forever that was the manor? Oh unrequited love, no other cuts run as deep.

 

Louis continued to stare at the side of boy's face, willing him to respond. He was all out of jest now, this had somehow become too earnest. He needed him to respond, or otherwise he might crumble.

 

The response came, but not in the way he would have anticipated. A shuffling sound coming from below, followed by a strangle cry, and Harry was gone in a flash, dropping off the manor's edge like a determined suicide.

 

Louis scrambled to his feet, peering over the edge in his wake. But only the dim of the house's front yard greeted him. Followed by a strangled cry that sounded oddly like... of fuck, _Zayn_!

 

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

 

 

 

It happened in a blur. One second he was on the porch, trying to make it back inside, the next he was pressed up against the side of the house, a hand on his throat. He tried to call out for help, but it came out as a choked whine instead. The edge of a hood brushed against his face and he froze as he felt himself being sniffed.

 

"Hmm, another little pet. He sure has a lot of you, doesn't he?" A smirk as the creature pulled back, and Zayn caught a glint of fang reflecting in the moonlight. Was this the same thing that had torn up Liam? He could only stare into that hood, its face cast in shadows as the swell of adrenaline paralyzed him.

 

A whoosh as something landed in the driveway, and Zayn blinked around the thing to find Harry standing there in perfect stillness, looking furious.

 

"Let him go," the vamp's voice came out low and calm.

 

The thing holding him in place didn't bother to turn and look, instead it tightened its hold. Zayn's breath came out in a wheeze.

 

"Or what? Think you can stop me in time? Already down one, let's make it two. How many of these are you collecting anyways?" Zayn watched the words come out of the vamp's mouth, its teeth a little too close for comfort.

 

"Don't test me," came Harry's reply, and Zayn tried to focus on his face instead, though his vision was starting to swim.

 

The creature let out a chuckle, "Oh, I'm very aware of what you are capable of. But this isn't about that..." It finally turned to look behind itself with the words. "It would seem your maker still hasn't gotten the message."

 

Fingernails like claws were digging into his throat, and together with the loss of oxygen were starting to make his head spin. Something warm started to run down his neck, and Zayn had a sick sense of just what that could be. He continued to stare at Harry, silently begging him for help, but the boy just remained standing where he'd appeared, his face set in a scowl.

 

The clench on his throat let up briefly and he got in a desperate lungful of air. The hand came to press against his chest instead to hold him in place, and the figure moved in closer to lick at his throat.

 

A shiver ran down his spine as a tongue lapped at him, and he squeezed his eyes shut in revulsion. Teeth scraping against his skin sent another shudder through him. He forced his eyes open to look at Harry again, begging him to intervene.

 

"Harry... " he croaked out, as fangs continued to caress him, tauntingly. "Plea– " the word died on his tongue as his head was roughly jerked to the side and he felt his throat blossom into a sea of pain.

 

Letting out hoarse cries he blinked at the figure standing in the driveway, watching it slowly fade to the fog.

 

 

Niall jumped off the bed with a startling abruptness, almost causing Liam to tumble off the bed. He'd had his head in the blonde's lap, slowly being soothed to sleep by the boy's often hilarious baby vamp stories.

 

Sitting up, he watched as Niall stood frozen in the middle of the room, his head tilted to the side as if trying to tune in on something.

 

He tried to do the same, but didn't get much at first. There were the sounds of the house – the creaking of old timber, the gnawing of termites, the rustle of some small vermin that made their home in the walls. And then there was outside – the sound of the wind brushing along the siding, the seagulls searching for washed-up shellfish, the rush of the ocean. It all combined to a crescendo of a headache if he listened too hard, so he usually tried not to.

 

"What is it?" Liam asked, but the boy didn't answer him, continuing to stand in the room.

 

So Liam tried again, focusing on the boys this time. Where were they? Quieting himself, he tried to seek out their breathing, their hearts. Nothing, nothing, the house was still, devoid of life. So he widened his net, casting it a bit further. And there, a frantic beating, close together. One from above, and one from... the front.

 

He sprang off the bed as well as he took it in. They were way too fast. Something wasn't right.

 

Niall turned to look at him, the same realization in his eyes.

 

"Come," was all the blonde said before he swiftly left the room.

 

 

Louis' heart hammered in his chest as he peered over the edge of the roof, flat on his stomach. He could make out Zayn's cries, but couldn't see him from this angle, together with the murmur of another voice. He couldn't catch everything they said, but from what he did, it didn't sound good. But he could see Harry clearly as he stood before the porch unmoving. Why wasn't he doing anything?

 

His hands gripped at the siding as he looked for a way down. He needed to be down there to help Zayn, but it wasn't like he could just leap from the roof the way Harry had. The only way back down was probably the way he'd come up, and that would take too long. And besides, the way his hands were shaking he wasn't sure he'd even be able to manage it, seeing how he'd almost broken his neck on the way up.

 

So he remained trapped, eyes trained on Harry as he stood unmoving, his t-shirt clad figure looking slight against the backdrop of the wall of fog coming up the driveway. It slowly reached him, but instead of taking him from sight seemed to swirl around him instead, recoiling as if from an unseen fire.

 

 

Harry stood and waited as the creature mocked him by leaning in to feed on Zayn. Fury was welling up inside of him at its impudence, but he knew that's just what it wanted.

 

So he steadied himself instead, channeling that emotion towards something else, using it as fuel. Like a door that he allowed to open just a crack, it eagerly clawed its way out, coming to gather and built inside of him.

 

Out and out it came, and he could almost hear its clamorous cries of excitement at being let free once more. He'd kept a firm hand on it ever since he'd returned, knowing that if he gave it even a little space it would quickly take more. And a little more. Until it took up everything.

 

Because he knew he would let it, gladly. A simple push by Liam had shown that. Before he'd fully realized it had eagerly sprung forth, reveling in being challenged. Churning at the bit like a dark horse.

 

But it had its uses, for all the dangers it meant for his soul. He'd have to deal with the fallout later because right now it was the only way. So he summoned it, and let it have free rein.

 

The creature went sprawling as it hit it, halfway across the porch and Zayn crumbled to the ground. Harry had time to see him reach a shaky hand to his bleeding throat but he couldn't tend to him now. He wasn't in the state of mind to.

 

Instead he found himself on top of the other vamp, holding it in place as he drowned it in the full onslaught of his rage. It circled like a cloud around him, a welcomed spread at his beck and call.

 

The vamp's hood had slipped back and out came a tumble of blonde hair. Blue eyes looked back at him, quickly turning from defiant rage to blind panic.

 

"Please," she gasped out as she stared back up at him. But her sweet face could do little to stop this.

 

He tore at her threads, ensnaring them in his mind's hands before offering them up to his own. Black, black, and more black. They tore at her, wrapping and twisting and pulling.

 

She convulsed underneath his hands, her eyes rolling back in her head as he went on. And on he did, enjoying the little cries that were being torn out of her.

 

Her fangs retraced and she continued to shake underneath him, and he went on.

 

Pretty little colors, being drawn out one by one. He twirled them around his finger and crushed them underfoot. The darkness took all.

 

She twitched and moaned, sobbing in wretched gasps, "Please... stop."

 

"And why should I?" Harry found himself purring down at her, playing with her strings like a puppeteer. "Little more, and there will be nothing left."

 

"Please," she tried again, starting to shake uncontrollably against the hard wood.

 

Harry reined himself in for just a second, finding it most difficult. His threads raged against it, snapping like feral dogs over his shoulders.

 

She blinked up at him, her eyes glassy. "There... there are more," she wheezed out.

 

"What?" Harry was a bit thrown, so overcome had he been by his fury.

 

The girl let out a hoarse chuckle. "You didn't think... that I was the only one... did you?" She let out a series of coughs which brought up a bit of blood to stain her smile. Her eyes slowly made their way to the roof, and Harry could feel a bit of panic make its way to the surface.

 

But his rage was quicker, and he plunged in, holding her fragile soul in place as he tore out her heart. And in one fellow swoop he crushed them both – her vampire heart and her mortal soul – a sick part of him delighting in the way they came to flutter away like flakes of ash.

 

 

 


	27. Chapter 27

 

 

 

Niall came bursting onto the porch, nearly ripping the screen door off its hinges in his haste. Liam was right behind him, and the boy knocked into his back as he came to an abrupt halt. Because the sight that greeted him had made him stop dead in his tracks.

 

Harry, crouched over a figure that was quickly turning to dust, the wind picking up the little pieces and tugging at them, making them dance through the air in a mocking charade of snowflakes. They twirled around, getting caught in the boy's curls and coating his face.

 

"Harry." Niall's voice came out with soft disbelieve. He'd never seen it done before, yet some part of him knew just what had happened. The wind picked up with a gust, and it dissolved the figure completely. Harry turned his head, tilting it to the side as the ash caressed his skin.

 

Niall felt a tremor go through him. He wasn't scared, not exactly. They had gone through too much together, shared too many secrets, spent too many days wallowing away in this place. He'd never feel the same sort of deferential anxiety towards him like he did for their maker. But as he stood there, watching as the vamp's eyes slowly lifted and came to stare back at him, the chasm between them had never felt wider. What had Simon and his training done to him?

 

A low whine brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked over at Liam to find him staring intently to the right, visibly vibrating in the effort to remain in place. Niall followed his gaze, and at the same time the scent hit him. Blood. Fresh blood. And a lot of it.

 

The source of it sat in an awkward heap on the porch, a trembling hand trying to stop the flow but it gushed past his fingers nonetheless. Down it poured, onto the front of his shirt and dripping to the ground. The worn wood was soaking it up greedily, and he found himself captivated by the sight for a moment too long.

 

"Liam, **back inside** ," he ordered as he tried to rein in his own self-control. There was no way the boy was ready for something like this yet. Liam continued to stare as if he hadn't heard, so Niall had to forcefully push him back inside and close the door. Hopefully that would be enough of a barrier to keep him from losing it.

 

Turning, he quickly crouched down in front of Zayn, breathing through his mouth to keep from being drawn back under.

 

"Zayn! Zayn! Can you hear me?" He pulled off his shirt and pressed it against the boy's neck, the lad's blood-covered hand slipping down into his lap. His head lolled to the side and he let out a weak whimper. At least he was still breathing.

 

Trying to staunch the wound as best as he could, he brought his own wrist to his mouth, finding his fangs already down for the task. _Don't think of the blood. Don't think of the blood_ , he frantically tried to tell himself as he bit down. But there was so much of it. He could feel his trousers soaking in it as he knelt before him. Removing his shirt from Zayn's neck, he rubbed his blood into the bite, hoping it wasn't too late.

 

The flesh knitted together slowly, going from garish open wound, to at least no longer bleeding. It still looked terrible though, a ravished slight against the boy's perfect skin.

 

He bit down on himself again, wincing a little at the pain of his careless tear, and tilted the boy's head up. His eyes were closed, obviously having passed out from the pain half-way through. Opening his mouth with his left, he brought his wrist up and pressed it against Zayn's lips.

 

"Come on, come on," he quietly muttered. Nothing came, no pull, but he could feel it going in. Some of it came to spill over his lips, running down the side of the lad's face and dripping onto his shirt to join with his own slowly darkening blood.

 

Finally, a shaky inhale through his nose and a bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. Niall held in place for a little longer, gritting his teeth as he finally felt the boy pull, drawing his blood out of his wrist. Another swallow, and a sigh, and the boy's eyes slowly fluttered open.

 

They slowly widened as consciousnesses returned, and with it the realization of just what was currently happening.

 

Niall pulled back, cradling his arm while he searched the boy's face.

 

"How do you feel?" he asked while he looked at his neck, sighing in relief to find it unblemished once again.

 

"Ugh," Zayn croaked out, before letting out a cough. "Like I've been hit by a bus. And then... given a line of blow." He let out a laugh that turned into another cough, coming to rub at his chest and then grimacing as his hand came back red.

 

"Well, good news, you're still human, I think. Bad news... " he looked around the porch, finding that they were alone. "Well, something wanted you dead, but I think Harry took care of that."

 

Zayn blinked up at him, and Niall stood up, offering his hand. "Come on, let's get you back inside and get you cleaned up."

 

The black haired lad offered his hand up, frowning at the way it was still shaking. But Niall just grasped it firmly, and pulled him to his feet.

 

 

He doubted they'd even noticed when he left them on the porch, but it looked like Niall had the situation under control. And he was glad. For having to babysit them all at this point would have been too much to handle.

 

Scanning the side of the house he quickly located the drainage pipe and used it to claw his way up. Because contrary to popular believe, vamps couldn't fly. At least not as far as he was aware of. So climb up he did, the adrenaline still coursing through him making it easier. Reaching the top he tried to get himself back under control. But the feeling was still inside of him. It had felt so good, snuffing her out like that. It had been... too easy. And it had been for the right reasons, he tried to tell himself. She'd been a moment away from finishing Zayn off. Yet he also knew there would be consequences for his actions. Dire ones.

 

Scanning around the roof, he found it ominously deserted. Listening in, he found nothing. No frantic beating, no desperate pulls of air.

 

Taking a few steps, he cast around, relying on his sense of smell instead. No blood either. Was he too late?

 

A whiff of it caught him then, his own, but mingled with the scent of the boy. _Louis_. Unmistakable. Like it had been imprinted on his mind.

 

Slowly making his way around the chimney, he was already bracing himself for the worst. That he'd find him there, crumbled, drained of blood, beyond saving.

 

A step, and another, the moment seemed to stretch out before him like a cracking sheet of ice. His undead heart came to hammer in his chest, and suddenly it struck him. Just how scared he was of this. Of finding him. Of losing him.

 

Rounding the corner, he found nothing. No, it was coming from further away. Faint, and being muddled by the salt of the sea.

 

Making his way across the roof, he let himself delve into just what he was feeling. He'd been trying to push them away, perhaps in a misguided attempt to save them. Because he knew what the consequences of hanging around a bunch of vampires could be. There only ever seemed to be two options after all, die or die and be turned. No happy endings for monsters like him.

 

But now it finally started to dawn on him that the die had already been cast. It was too late. And if they really couldn't go back and forget all about this to live out their little lives doing mundane little things, then he would gladly keep them. Because as much as he'd tried to tell himself they didn't matter, they really did. For his heart was telling him so with every beat as he slowly narrowed in. _Louis Louis Louis_ , it seemed to pound.

 

Another chimney, another arch; he slid down it, hands coming to catch himself against crumbling brick. A cloud pulled away from the moon, letting him see it more fully.

 

And there, flapping in the wind, held in place by a broken brick was the black fabric of his coat. He reached for it, catching the boy's scent still clinging to it. A note had been shoved into the coin pocket, and he reached for it, somehow already knowing what it would say.

 

The words crumbled in his fist, crushed the same way her little mercenary's heart had been.

 

 _Seline sends her regards_.

 

 

 


	28. Chapter 28

 

 

 

His head snapped up when he heard the screen door bang shut at the front of the house. Heavy steps followed that made the floorboards creak.

 

They were in the parlor, Zayn stretched out on the couch before the fire beside him, fast asleep now as he recovered from his ordeal. Liam sat in the armchair by his side, cradling a tumbler of whisky. His head slowly raised, meeting Niall's eyes as he took in the same sounds.

 

Steps and more steps, he took his time, before finally appearing in the doorway. He was dressed in his black coat again, the one that made him look just like one of them – a mercenary, an assassin. Just like the one he'd encountered in that clearing tearing out Liam's throat. He idly wondered where they got their clothes from, if there was a sanctioned retailer for that line of work. He would have laughed at himself had he not caught the look on Harry's face.

 

"Where's Louis?" Liam let out, drawing Niall back as he voiced the obvious. He glanced around the room, slighting himself for not getting there sooner himself. Like a mother duck that couldn't count past three.

 

Harry remained standing in the doorway, the light of the fire flickering along his features in perhaps an ominous way. Or maybe Niall was just imagining things, the sudden doubt gnawing at his insides.

 

"Harry?" he let out, a hand still running over the sleeping boy's hair, more in a gesture for his own comfort.

 

"He's gone," came his low reply, devoid of inflection.

 

"What?" Liam sprung up from his seat, making a few rash steps towards the vamp before the look that met him made him stop in his tracks.

 

"Harry," Niall asked again, softly, instinctively knowing just what tone to use for this kind of situation. "What happened?"

 

Harry remained standing in the doorway as Liam stood in the middle of the room. Niall shot the boy a glance; willing him to return it. Thankfully he did, and he silently motioned for him to back down.

 

Liam let out an agitated breath, before dropping back down on the chair and taking a steadying sip from his glass.

 

Harry came to lean against the doorframe, as if suddenly needing the support to hold him up. His eyes dropped to the floor as Niall continued to wait him out. The silence stretched on.

 

"There... there were two of them... I guess," he finally started, his voice barely above a whispered mumble. But Niall heard. "And while I was busy... protecting Zayn... they got him instead."

 

"But–" Niall shot Liam another glare, and the boy's question died in his throat.

 

Harry took another moment before continuing, a hand running along his lapel with a distracted stroke. "And they took him. Seline took him."

 

Niall's eyes shot up at this. He really didn't know much about Harry's backstory, but he knew that she had been a central, and terrible part of it.

 

"Oh Hazz..." He'd sprung up from his seat before he'd realized, coming to draw the boy into a tight hug. Harry remained stiff against him for a tense while, before slowly relaxing, centimeter by centimeter. He clung onto him, knowing it was what he needed. Burying his head in the boy's coat, he caught a whiff of Louis. He must have been wearing it shortly before he was taken. Niall felt a stab go through him.

 

"Harry, I'm so sorry," he muttered into his shoulder, feeling the boy tense against him. A little shudder let him know that he was fighting with himself.

 

"I'm so stupid," the boy murmured into his neck. "I should have know."

 

Niall remained silent, not knowing how to respond to that. Truth was, they all should have. Zayn should never have been out there alone. Harry shouldn't have either. And god knows what Louis was doing out there as well. And Liam and him should never have been so far away. But it was too late now; hindsight was a bittersweet thing after all.

 

Slowly disengaging himself from the embrace, he pulled Harry towards the couch and quickly went to pour him a drink. Liam continued to stare at them, the questions all but etching themselves on his forehead.

 

The fire continued to crackle cheerily before them as the silence filled the room, its joyous flicks of light an odd juxtaposition to the heaviness currently around them. It flickered on their down-turned faces, making the liquor sparkle merrily in their glasses.

 

A deep gasp brought them out of their melancholy, and three sets of vampire eyes shot to the source. Zayn took in another breath, before his eyes flickered open and he groggily tried to sit up.

 

Liam was at his side in an instance, kneeling down beside the couch to clasp his hand.

 

"Zayn. _ohmygod_ , Zayn! How are you feeling?" He stared intently down at the boy, checking his face as if trying to read his vital signs.

 

Zayn winced a little, coming rub at his temple with his free hand. "Ugh, fine I guess. But like I've been on a three-day bender." He struggled to sit up again, and Liam was right there with him.

 

He glanced beside him, taking in Niall's bright eyes, a wide grin on his face. And Harry, who was staring before him, eyes lost to the flames of the fire.

 

Looking back at Liam, who was still regarding him as if he might break at any moment, he glanced back at the room. "Uhmm, where's Louis?" Silence greeted him.

 

 

Harry watched the flames, their flicker devolving before his eyes into frantic shapes – a cruel contortion of little dancers desperate to perform their last act while the stage burned all around them. Every once in a while a flame would lash out amongst them, like an angry mouth, screaming in silence to unknown agonies. Who knew a simple fire could hold so much fury? No wonder it was so hypnotizing, to vamps and mortals alike.

 

He tried to snap out of it, zone back in on the other lads currently in the room. Niall was trying his best to keep them placated, and he knew he should be helping – he'd really let them down after all. His orders had been simple. Protect. And a fine job he'd done of that. And now what? Louis was gone. Possibly dead already. And here he sat, with no clue at how to go about it all, clinging onto his coat like a lifeline, the boy's scent still in his nose.

 

Swirling the amber liquid in his glass, he watched as the flames caught in it, making it more than it was. Raising it to his lips he took another sip, finding no comfort in its mellow burn. He'd fucked up, royally. Simon would have a field day with him when he got back.

 

 

And as if speaking of the devil, there came the sound of a car coming up the driveway. The boys all stilled, well, except for Zayn of course who couldn't hear that far.

 

"What's going on?" the boy let out, catching their sudden silence. They didn't answer, eyes trained on the door like a group of hounds awaiting their master.

 

A door banged shut, and Zayn finally got the message, sitting up a little more as the door opened to the parlor.

 

A figure appeared in the doorway, cast in half-shadows and flickering light from the fireplace. Zayn slunk back down a little at the sight, still not used to his imposing entrances. But he couldn't help but note how the others also stiffened beside him at his arrival.

 

"Boys... it would appear we have a bit of a problem," Simon said in way of greeting, and stepped more fully into the room.

 

 

 


	29. Chapter 29

 

 

 

A tremor running through his body awoke him. It was quickly followed by another, torn out without his permission; his body's instinctual survival mechanism, trying to keep those few crucial degrees above critical.

 

For he was cold, incredibly so. To the point that he couldn't even feel whatever he was lying on. Shifting a bit, he immediately stilled again as his brain fired off a warning shot. There was something digging into his side, sharp and uneven, and as he ran his hand down towards it he realized with a pang that he was naked. He cracked his eyes open to check what was beneath him, but it did little good, for pitch-black met him.

 

Groping around beneath him in the darkness, his hands came in contact with wound metal, looped like a chain-link fence. No wonder his side was killing him. Trying to sit up, he bumped into the same material above him. He swallowed as he looped his fingers through it, finding it unyielding beyond a gentle give.

 

Panic started to grip him as he searched around blindly in the dark, his body going from shivers to full on quakes as he found the same links on all sides. It was a box, enclosing him with the strength of metal. A cage.

 

 

Time passed, he did not know how much of it. It could have been a day, or an hour; uncertainty and the agony of the temperature making it seem to stop altogether.

 

All the while his mind was still tearing around in frantic loops, trying to make sense of it. One minute he'd been on the roof, worried about Zayn and watching Harry, the next – he didn't know. It had happened so fast, from behind. Something pulling him up, a brush of a coat perhaps, and then a sharp pain at the back of his head followed by darkness.

 

They must have knocked him out and brought him here, wherever here was. But why? And who? Were they planning on killing him? But why bring him here and not just be done with it? His mind continued to whirl at it, but his thoughts were starting to slow, becoming sluggish, quickly being replaced by one thought only – cold, why was it so cold.

 

Louis sat huddled in the corner of his cage, arms locked around his knees in the desperate effort to retain body heat. He'd given up rocking as the metal hurt too much against his skin. At least the uncontrollable shivers were slowing, he thought to himself dryly. His body was probably realizing the futility of it. Or maybe it was just running out of energy.

 

Hunger had come to claw at him at some point, but it was gone now, his insides just feeling hollow and nauseous. But the thirst remained, his spit thick in his mouth and his throat dry. A tall glass of water had never sounded so good.

 

The scent of urine caught his nose and he grimaced, trying to shuffle a little further away from where he'd been forced to crawl and relieve himself. The splash of it had been loud, making him realize just how quiet this place was. There was really nothing, no noises from outside, no creaks of old wood. Just silence, making him listen in on each of his own breaths. Each of his own swallows. If he listened close enough he was starting to think he could even hear his heart beat. Past the blood rushing through his ears of course like a static TV channel.

 

But it was weird, it almost felt like the room wasn't as cold anymore. Maybe they had turned on the heat? He blinked at the darkness, his eyelids starting to become heavy. He knew he needed to stay awake or he might never wake up again. But it was getting difficult. So difficult. Sleep was beckoning for him, numbing his mind. And it was getting warm, almost too warm. Maybe he was running a fever. Maybe...

 

 

Something awoke him, and he jerked up realizing he'd let himself nod off. The tremors returned as he sat and tried to listen for it, his eyes still trying to see in the darkness.

 

There! Louis stilled his breathing, trying to make it out. Yes, there it was again. The faint sound of steps. They were coming closer.

 

A creak of a door, and the noise seemed deafeningly loud as it broke the silence. Soft steps as something entered. Louis' heart sped up, seeming to beat in his throat as he sat and waited. But the room was silent again, his own breathing ringing in his ears.

 

"What do you mean you left him there?" Louis' head jerked around to the voice of a woman, coming from further away. Angry steps came to pound out as they approached, and with them a flicker of light. It allowed him to make out the door and a figure standing silently beside it.

 

"Poor thing's probably frozen solid by now!" the voice said again and Louis stared as she rounded the corner. Someone was trailing behind her while holding a light, outlining the figure's flowing gown as they approached.

 

They came to stop before the cage, and the woman bent down and clutched at the chain link. "Oh sweet thing, look at you!"

 

Louis blinked back at her, the light from the candle letting him see. She has a pretty face, he mused absentmindedly, his mind foggy. He shivered again as he sat there huddled in the corner, knowing he should be afraid. But he couldn't find it in him. He was just so tired.

 

"Well, don't just stand there, open this ghastly thing!" She shouted at the figure by the door, and it quickly approached. The lock was removed and the woman climbed inside, heedless of her pretty dress. Louis may have tried to move, but found his limbs unable to cooperate.

 

She reached for him instead, pulling him towards herself and gathering him up in her arms as she withdrew from the cage.

 

"Oh poor thing! Poor love!" she cooed at him. "Ready a bath, and bring up a meal!" she ordered as she carried him, cradled against her, her grip surprisingly strong. "Poor thing must be starving!" She looked down at him with kind eyes, and Louis could only stare back at her, tears of relief burning in his throat.

 

"Don't worry, love, I'll take good care of you. My name is Seline. What's yours darling pet?" she whispered to him, and he found himself answering.

 

 

 


	30. Chapter 30

 

 

 

If awkward was a place, this was certainly it. He was riding bitch, squeezed in tightly in the backseat between Niall and... _Simon_.

 

Harry was at the wheel of the sleek Mercedes with Liam riding shotgun. They had thought it best not to have him back here beside him, just in case. But as his thigh was unwillingly pressed against the boys' maker, he couldn't help but think that the slight chance that Liam might turn on him would have been a less painful alternative.

 

They sat in silence as the car sped on, leaving the twisted single lanes of the shore and making their way onto the flat planes of endless highway.

 

For they were going on a rescue mission it would seem. Though between the five of them, only two appeared to be equipped for the task. He, for instance, had only been taken along because they couldn't spare anyone to stay behind to watch him. To protect him.

 

Zayn stared out through the windshield before him, watching the lane markers dash past. His fingers itched to roll a joint, to take the edge off. But he knew he'd have to stay clear for this. He was already enough of a liability as it was.

 

Something nudged his side and he looked down to find Niall offering him a thermos. He gave the boy a grateful nod as he went to unscrew the top. The scent of hot chocolate met his nose and though it was less hot than lukewarm, it was still a quiet comfort. He took a swallow, before passing it back to the blonde who recapped it.

 

The silence stretched on, leaving Zayn with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company. And bad company they were. Would they find him in time? Would it be too late? And if they did, what would it mean?

 

Zayn understood little of what was going on, but from what he'd been able to gather Simon seemed to be in a bit of a mess with some other vampires. And by unwilling association, so were they.

 

Figured these things always came with strings. Like being picked up off the streets by a gang, gratefully to finally have a place, only to find that they had a beef with some other group. People you never had a problem with before, but now, due to a forced allegiance were suddenly your mortal enemies. Or immortal.

 

He let out a chuckle, knowing it probably sounded odd in the silence of the car. But he couldn't help it. It was just too much. And when the choices were openly breaking down with hysterical sobs or losing his mind to wailing screams, well, he'd rather choose the third – misplaced humor.

 

Niall shot him a worried glance and offered him the thermos again, and he took it with another chuckle, a hiccup escaping him. Simon remained stoic beside him, staring out at the passing scenery. Harry's face was shadowed, his grip on the wheel tight. And Liam... Zayn took another sip from the canister as he looked at him.

 

The random highway lights were flashing over his features, adding more edges to his face. His jaw was set, making the tendons shift. And he looked more beautiful than he ever had.

 

Zayn took another sip as he studied him. Yes, death had been kind. He let out another chuckle, probably just adding to the awkwardness in the car. But it was true. Whatever this vampire curse was, it did know how to preserve a corpse. And bring out the full potential of the life it had claimed.

 

The road continued before them, becoming a blur as Zayn leaned back against the seat and felt his eyes becoming heavy. Sleep was pulling at him, as it probably had a right to. He'd been on death's door only a few hours ago after all. Another giggle escaped him as he let his eyes slip shut, his last thoughts on Louis. Fuck, he hoped he was okay. He didn't know what he'd do...

 

 

Louis awoke more comfortable than he'd been in a long time. Everything seemed so soft, like he was drifting on water. Clean sheet surrounded him, and he just wanted to bury in them, feel their silky texture against his skin. That must be one hell of a thread count.

 

"Louis, darling Louis," a voice made him raise his head from his nest of blankets. He blinked at the figure, finding her, Seline, smiling back at him.

 

"How are you feeling Louis love?" She offered him a glass and he took it, his hand feeling clumsy against its fragile crystal stem.

 

"Okay, I guess..." he answered before taking a sip of the cool liquid. It danced over his tongue, the taste oddly familiar. He glanced at the glass in his hand. Pink champagne.

 

He went to set it down, but found no place to do so.

 

"Drink up little pet. You've been through so much. It'll help steady your nerves." She smiled sweetly at him.

 

And Louis found himself doing just so.

 

"Come now little one, introductions are in order!" She pulled him from the bed while taking the glass from his hand. Louis was a little startled to find himself still naked, but Seline seemed to pay it no mind.

 

 

What happened next was perhaps the oddest experience of his life. Louis didn't know much of mythology, but if he had to pick one, a fairy court sprang to mind. Don't eat the food, a voice seemed to whisper in warning. But before he knew it, a goblet was pressed into his hand and he was sipping from it without meaning to – the taste more wonderful than anything he could recall.

 

He was seated at the head of it all, dressed in a robe now, but the sheer fabric left little to the imagination. Seline was next to him, a careless hand continuing to caress him while she talked with another party guest.

 

And what a party it was. He tried to look around, thinking he caught a few faces he recognized. Celebrities? He couldn't place them, but they seemed familiar somehow.

 

"And let me introduce you!" her voice brought him back to the couch they were lounging on. "Meet Louis, isn't he darling?"

 

He forced a smile at the girl standing before them. She looked not much older than himself, flowing brown hair framing a pretty face. She gave him a curtsy and a smirk, agreeing with Seline before sauntering off.

 

"Oh Louis! They love you," she purred at him as she came to stroke his face. "No wonder he picked you."

 

Louis' eyebrows furrowed as he took in her words.

 

He? Who was he? Taking another sip his eyes returned to the scene, taking in the writhing sway of bodies dancing to a low drumbeat before him. Something came to nag at the back of his mind though – like a frantic voice trying to shout a warning, only to be drowned out by the pulsing beat of the music.

 

"Perfect you are," she continued, coming to stroke a fingernail along the inside of his wrist.

 

He looked up at that, some part of him responding in conditioned anticipation.

 

Her grin widened, continuing to stroke against his skin, pressing a little harder now.

 

Louis felt his breath quicken as he looked at her.

 

"He always was a favorite of mine you know. I kept him closer and longer than any other. I may even have turned him... if... if fate had not intervened," she let out a soft hum at this, as if quietly musing to herself.

 

Louis' breath caught in his throat as she gripped his wrist and pulled it up towards her.

 

"But it would seem some things are not so easily forgotten, however hard we try to distance ourselves." She ghosted her lips over the sensitive skin and a shiver tore through him.

 

"No, seems we repeat the very things we try so desperately to escape." Another brush of skin, and something harder beneath them. "And I taught him well." She looked up at him, her mouth opening to kiss at his wrist, and Louis let out a whimper.

 

She let out a laugh at this, before sweeping a tongue over his skin. "Yes, yes, I did. You want this, don't you?"

 

Louis' heart was pounding in his chest as she held his wrist in place, her mouth so achingly close. Yes, yes he did.

 

She let out a hum, her eyes remaining locked on his as she adjusted her grip and bit down with a swift stroke. It pierced his skin, that welcomed burning sting, and he let out a hiss before it quickly turned into a groan when the pull hit him. It spread through him, shooting to his groin with aching intensity, and he was putty in her hold.

 

A wanton moan caught his ear, and he realized belatedly that it must have been his own. But it just felt so good.

 

It went on, ebbing and flowing, each pull coursing through him in ecstasy. And he let it, fully at her mercy. She could do what she wanted, take it all, he didn't care. Just to let him have this... this feeling.

 

But as his heart picked up – his body battling against the worrying blood loss – a name struck him. His mind was starting to swim, but it remained.

 

Harry. _Harry_. Harryharryharry. A pulsing mantra, mingling together with each pounding beat of his heart.

 

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

 

 

 

His cup never ran empty, as if refilled by an unseen hand. So he'd quickly lost track of just how much he'd had. Or just how long he'd been here for that matter.

 

There never seemed to be a moment to consider it. It had been an endless stream of parties – food, drink, drugs – until he'd passed out and awoken to find that the next party had started without him. Or maybe it was still the same one, he really didn't know.

 

Yet he knew he needed to get some distance from it all, to get his head back on straight and think this all through – to get out of here.

 

Though somehow, just when he was about to she'd be there. And then he'd end up seated on the couch again next to her while she called for some more entertainment, or led him off to a bath, or showed the maze, or... any number of wonderful distractions that she never seemed to run out of.

 

And then there was the constant liquor being fed him. Louis frowned down at his glass, knowing it held more than just alcohol. Vague memories of Harry doing the same swam sluggishly through his mind. And he could feel the same flutter of excitement shoot through him as he looked at her now. Was this some kind of spell? A way to bind him to her?

 

Whatever it was, it was probably already too late to fight it. For as she threw her head back with a laugh he could feel himself staring at her, unable to tear his eyes away. She noticed his gaze, and he watched as her lips quirked into a sly smirk.

 

"Come little Louis love," she purred to him as she stood up and walked towards him with a sway. "Time for something... a little different."

 

And he found himself on his feet in an instant, taking the offered hand without hesitation.

 

 

She led him to a chamber he hadn't been to before, her ever-present escorts at their heels. He briefly wondered about them. Who were they? Were they here of their own free will? Were they vampires too, or like him? The thoughts ran through his mind, but so slowly it was almost painful. Whoever they were, every last one of them was beautiful, male or female. And young. And barely clothed.

 

He was calmly led to the center of the room, coming to stand before the expanse of a bed raised as if on a dais. Hands ran down his body, deft fingers coming to undress him. He turned around in question, only to find her across the room, her helpers carrying his clothing away.

 

"Lay down pet," she said as she lifted something from an offered tray.

 

He did so without question, the satin slide of the bedspread cool against his skin.

 

"I think it is time for you to get a little present. You have been so good, especially considering the... circumstances."

 

Half-remembered memories of the cage returned then – the cold, the despair, and how she'd saved him...

 

But he didn't belong here. He should be searching for a way to escape, shouldn't he? Why hadn't he before? He waited for the panic, the adrenaline to come and help him spring to action, but none came. His body just seemed content to lie back and let it happen.

 

She advanced slowly, whatever she'd picked up hidden behind her wrist.

 

"Yes, very good indeed. He'll be coming here in vain won't he? Because you'll want to stay." She brushed a fingertip over his bottom lip as she came to sit beside him.

 

And Louis found himself captivated by her eyes. They were so pretty, even though he couldn't seem to figure out what color they were. Brown? Blue? Gray? Their hue seemed to shift before him to whatever he was thinking of, as if he was making it so. No, green, he decided. Definitely green.

 

They just continued to twinkle down at him as a finger traced his jaw, his cheekbone.

 

"Lie back love." He did, and she slid down next to him, her helpers standing like silent sentinels in the room. "Come little loves, come join us," she beckoned to them then, and they came, crawling onto the bed with them. "Let's show our darling little Louis why he should stay."

 

Hands were on his skin then, teasing and brushing, running along his body in every which combination. He looked up to find them smiling back at him, boys, girls – all different but somehow the same. One was blonde, one had hair of jet-black, another had pretty curls. Oddly familiar they seemed, or was he just imagining things?

 

A hand fleetingly grazed his cock, and he jerked a little in response, making teasing laughter float through the air.

 

Gentle kisses now along with the hands, fluttering and fleeting, a nuzzle along his neck, a stroke along his legs.

 

Louis blinked at the ceiling, overcome by it. He tried to raise a hand to return the caresses, but they were gently brought up and held in place. There was a weight on his ankles as well now, soft hands spreading them apart. So all he could do was lie there and take it, and his body sang out in delight.

 

Another soft brush along his cock, and he let out a hum, feeling himself starting to stiffen with each teasing glance.

 

Another stroke and then the warm press of lips on him, parting to lick at his tip. He let out a sigh as other mouths kissed and licked at different parts of him. A flick against a nipple, a gentle bite at the crook of his neck, a brush up his parted thighs. His eyes fluttered shut at the intensity of it, having his whole body so thoroughly explored.

 

A stroke along his cheekbone made him blink them back open, eyes unfocused by lust as he stared back at that lovely face.

 

"Wonderful, isn't it?" Seline said to him, continuing to caress his face.

 

He could only nod at her, too overcome for words.

 

"And it's about to get a whole lot better," with that she held up what she'd been hiding. It was a thin blade, formed into a strangely curving shape. The candlelight from the room reflect on it, making it seem like a rippling current.

 

Louis looked at it, not understanding in his daze. Though he came to watch in fascination as she brought it down on her own wrist with a quick stroke and the blood came to flow, dripping down on his chest.

 

"Have a little taste, pretty pet. And know what's worth remembering..." She pressed her wrist against his mouth and Louis' eyes widened as he felt it wet against his lips, the scent of it burning in his nose. Yet before he knew it, he had opened his lips and it came flowing, sharp and metallic against his tongue.

 

He wanted to pull away, a little disgusted by the taste. But his body swallowed without his permission, and as soon as he did it seemed to change. Like a pleasant burn coursing through him, searching and teasing, making his insides echo with what he was feeling on his skin.

 

The mouth around his cock chose that moment to swallow him down, and he bucked up, wanting to gasp out but ended up taking another swallow instead. The feeling intensified and all of a sudden he was pulling, needing more of that heavenly liquid.

 

A hand came to stroke through his hair, petting him softly as he drank. It felt good, almost as good as being drained. His body felt like it was singing with it, humming on a different frequency.

 

The mouth continued to work him, his dick feeling achingly hard now, pulsing while engulfed in that slick embrace. He let out a moan at the combination, coming to lick at the wrist as the wound started to close. He felt it pulling away and he almost wished he could grab for it and hold it in place, but his wrists were still pinned down.

 

"Like that, pet?" she asked, smiling down at him. He nodded, before his eyes slipped shut again at the deft tongue circling his dick. He wasn't going to last much longer, it was too much, her blood coursing inside of him making it all the more intense.

 

He let out a whine as he felt it built, his body tensing with it. So close, but he needed more, something else. It wasn't enough. He wanted to tear at himself from the feel of it, the constriction, like his body was too small to contain it all. It begged for the release but it just wasn't right.

 

The mouth let up as if from an unheard signal, and a hand came to hold the base, keeping him from spilling. The gentle hands stopped along his skin, fingernails coming to scratch lazily instead.

 

"Louis love, tell me what you need."

 

He blinked up at her as he lay panting on the bedspread, not knowing if he could voice the words. "I... " it came out hoarse, his want sticking in his throat. He licked his lips, still tasting her on them.

 

She remained peering down at him, patient as he tried to continue.

 

"I... I want... " He struggled with himself. Fuck, he wanted it so much, it scared him a little. "I... feed on me, _please_ ," he whispered out as he looked at her in desperation.

 

She let out a little laugh then, her voice bubbling through the room. "Oh, you are too precious! Of course, darling love!" She stroked her fingers down his neck and he bared it for her.

 

Warm breath against his skin, and his eyes flickered closed in anticipation. A soft brush of lips and the hand cinching his cock released him, coming to stroke gentle as he held his breath.

 

A kiss, a hum, and then it came, quicker than he could have prepared for. Sinking into him, the sharp burn was quickly followed by the throb of the pull. His orgasm was pulled out of him just as sharply, making him arch off the bed at the force of it, his breathing resuming with a startle gasp that quickly turned into a senseless groan.

 

She continued to feed on him just as a hand was pulling each last spurt out of him, his cock pulsing in tandem to her pulls. Yes, this was what he had needed. This was perfect. 

 

 

Something worth forgetting for.

 

 

 


	32. Chapter 32

 

 

 

They pulled up outside, off the strip but still close by. An unmarked place; the single bulb over the doorway being the only giveaway that there was anything to be found at all. Something that only the right kind of people would know how to find. Or at least only those who were meant to.

 

They piled out of the car and Zayn frowned as the chill in the air hit him. It was unusual for this place, as was the fog. Or maybe that was just a play by his vision, for he still felt pretty out of it from it all. The attack, the ride, the fact that Niall's blood was coursing through him – probably the only thing holding him up at this point. Come to think of it, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd eaten, though, just to be fair, he also couldn't think of the last time he'd felt hungry.

 

Shrugging his coat on, the slide of a van door made him look up. Out came a bunch of cloaked figures who quickly made their way over to Simon. Figured he'd have brought back-up.

 

He stood around a little awkwardly as he watched the man conversed with them, calling over Niall and Harry as well. Liam was standing a bit away from it all, looking lost.

 

"Hey," he said as he walked over to him, leaning back against the car.

 

"Hey," Liam mumbled, looking at the ground.

 

"How're you holding up?"

 

"Uhmm, fine, you know how it–" Liam stopped himself, shooting him a sheepish glance.

 

Zayn bit back a laugh. "Yeah man, no worries. We'll get him back. Or at least, they will." He motioned over to the group of shady characters.

 

"Yeah... I... I just don't know what I'm doing here. It's not like I'll be able to help or anything." Liam glanced up at him, the same lost puppy-dog look on his face when he was still... well, before all this. Zayn almost let out another laugh at the absurdity. Trust Liam to be turned into a freaking vampire – filled with impossible strength and rage and destruction and blood-lust and whatnot – and still come out the other side needing a hug.

 

Zayn gave in to the urge and slide his arm over the boy's shoulders, squeezing him tight. Liam let out a little huff at that, searching his face before dropping his gaze back down.

 

"We'll be okay," Zayn whispered to him.

 

 

"Alright boys," Simon announced as his little meeting came to a conclusion. "I have assigned guards for you. It would be in your best interest not to leave their protection."

 

Zayn looked at the cloaked figures that were splitting off to encircled them, their grim faces doing little to reassure him.

 

But Simon was already heading towards the door, Niall and Harry at his heels, so they followed.

 

A curt knock later and the door slid open, revealing the buff shape of a cliché bouncer.

 

"Simon," he let out with a nod. Simon didn't return it. "Seline has been expecting you. Welcome." He stepped back to allow them entrance.

 

And with that they were in, walking in single file as dim red light lit their way.

 

 

There was a disturbance in the air, one that even Louis could pick up on through his daze. Someone came to whisper something to Seline, and she stilled, her hand stopping its massaging motion through his hair. He looked at her, watching something flicker over her features before she composed herself. Clapping her hands twice, she quickly got the attention of her fellowship.

 

"Places, everyone. Our guests have arrived," she called out, sounding oddly gleeful.

 

Louis looked at her, trying to make sense of it.

 

 

Zayn clung onto Liam's arm as they navigated the narrow passageways, needing him close. And by the way the boy was flexing his bicep to trap his fingers against his side let him know he needed it too.

 

The light was dim, and all the walls seemed to be painted black – the typical club get-up. The beat of music reached his ears, muffled by the walls, but promised to unleash its full fury as soon as the right door was opened.

 

They continued on with silent shadows at their backs, the sight of Niall's blond hair and Harry's mop of curls before them. Even from the back Zayn could tell that they were tense as well, unsure. The only one who seemed to be taking this lightly was Simon, striding before them like he was about to sit down for a cup of tea with an old friend.

 

Zayn tightened his hold as they made their way.

 

 

A door crashed open and Louis looked up startled, and swung around again as Seline let out a delighted laugh beside him. He swung his eyes back to the door to watch a figure striding through, filled with intent. Dark shapes quickly fanned out behind him, taking their places along the back of the room.

 

"Seline," the figure said, his voice low but carrying.

 

"Simon," she returned, and something in Louis quickened. He knew him.

 

"There seems to have been something of a... mix-up. Seems you have taken something of mine," his voice rang out clear through the air.

 

Seline let out another laugh, stroking through Louis' hair. He looked at her in confusion.

 

"Oh yes, but well, seems you have taken something of mine as well," she countered.

 

"What, you mean the little mercenary you dared to set loose upon my house?" Simon's voice remained devoid of inflection.

 

"Yes, but she was dear to me. In her way. And she was only there since you decided to encroach upon my territory."

 

"You mean, the very same territory you have let fall to pieces? The one they gave you a second chance to hold, even after all of your little... blunders. Odd, but it would seem some 'things' are truly past redemption."

 

Seline laughed again, throaty and full of mirth. She turned to Louis now, stroking along his face as she continued, "Oh, but their rules are so very dreary: Don't do that. Don't do this. Keep them all in check. No exposure, no scandals, no kills, no pets, no live-feeding, no bla bla bla – I grow tired of it! Hiding in the shadows, wasting away for eternity like a shackled nun in fear of displeasing some absentee gods! And I ask you, where are they, those that sent you? Where are they, those that make such binding laws upon us?"

 

Simon remained silent, standing in the center of the room as the lights flickered around him.

 

She let out another laugh. "I knew it! For look at you, just another mercenary, bursting in to carry out an order. And for what? To stop me? Or what? To reclaim him, your pet? Oh Simon, if they only knew, they'd be sending the same after you. Don't think I don't know. Ever since you took him I have known. You and I, we aren't so different after all."

 

The air shifted in the room, but still Simon did not reply. His face remained unreadable, his guards stoic at his back.

 

"So how can we solve this? A truce... a trade? I let you have this little thing and you'll tell them all is well?"

 

"I am afraid I can not do that Seline," Simon finally replied.

 

"Oh, but that's a shame. Seems one of yours is quite fond of this one. Guess I'll just have to dispose of him then, and save us all a lot of trouble."

 

"Do as you may, it will only add to the bounty on your head," Simon's voice came out cold.

 

"Ahh... but what is one more amongst them all, and his blood is ever so sweet, and so willingly given," she stroked a finger along Louis' neck at that and he instinctively arched it up for her, even as some semblance of fear shot through him. She leaned in closer, her lips against his skin and his eyes fluttered closed in anticipation, even if this time it might be the last. Her teeth brushed against him, and he welcomed it. Yearned for it. Please.

 

"Stop!" a voice rang out, commanding and deep, making the entire hall hush.

 

Louis blinked open his eyes, making out a figure that had stepped out behind Simon. An angry scowl on his face, curly hair in disarray, eyes too far away to make out their color, but he knew him – Harry.

 

Seline let up just as quickly, springing off the lounge in delight. "Oh Harry! It's you!"

 

She took a few steps towards him, but he remained standing where he was.

 

"Oh, how I have missed you! I never meant for them, for him, to take you." Her eyes flicked to Simon, who was still standing with a stony look on his face. "Oh darling!" she almost sobbed.

 

"I want you to let him go," was all Harry said, his tone cold as he looked at her.

 

She stopped at this, seeming a little thrown before she collected herself. "But... I mean... He has been such a dear thing. And he loves me so..." she looked back at him then, and Louis could only return her gaze. Did he love her? He didn't know. But the thought of leaving her didn't exactly fill him with joy either. It sent a pang to his gut instead, threatening on nausea.

 

He watched as Harry nodded to himself, assessing the situation.

 

"I know what you've done," he stated plainly. "And in exchange... for his freedom... I offer this instead..."

 

The silence hung in the room, as every eye came to be trained on him. Even Simon seemed to be a little thrown by it, taking a step towards him only to have Harry stop him with a gesture to respond:

 

 

"Myself."

 

 

 


	33. Chapter 33

 

 

 

"Harry, no!" Niall called out just as the sound of Seline's laughter came to echo through the hall. He grabbed the boy by the arm, trying to stop him from doing this terrible thing, but Harry just ignored him, his eyes set dead ahead as he waited for her response.

 

"Oh Harry love!" she exclaimed, "You surprise me. What a show of self-sacrifice, offering yourself in exchange for your pet!" She laughed again, though it now had a mocking edge to it. "But you hurt my feelings. What good are you to me if you have to be bought? If you won't come at your own free will?"

 

Niall watched as Harry gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'll make it worth your while," he ground out, but Seline just laughed again.

 

"I'm sure you will. I still remember those many nights most fondly. But no, I'm afraid I can't accept your kind offer. What else do you have to trade? Perhaps another, one less dear? I heard tell you travel in a pack these days..."

 

Niall's eyes shot back to where Zayn and Liam were standing surrounded by their guards. A pang went through him at the thought of losing either of them to this horrible place.

 

"No," he interrupted whatever Harry might have said. The boy looked at him as he took a step forward. "I'd rather you take me instead."

 

Seline clapped her hands in delight, "Oh, this just keeps getting better and better! What have they done to you both to make you so protective? But frankly, little one, Niall isn't it? I don't think I'd enjoy you either. Tasting your maker in your blood every time I take a sip would just ruin the mood." She let out a melodramatic shiver in disgust.

 

"Then have me instead. I'm... I'm still human," Zayn let out in a mumble as he escaped his bodyguards and took a step into the room.

 

Niall tried to pull him back in time, to keep him from exposing himself, but it was too late – Seline had already seen. She took a few more steps towards them and tilted her head in scrutiny.

 

"Hmm... yes... this I can work with. You're awfully pretty, aren't you? What's your name darling one?" she asked as she moved in closer.

 

"Zayn no," Niall whispered frantically at him as he pushed him back, but the boy struggled in his grasp while his eyes remained locked on the vampire approaching.

 

"We need to get him back, Niall," Zayn hissed at him. "It's Louis! We can't just leave him here." His eyes flicked to him as Harry stepped up to block Seline's view.

 

"I know, but not if it means losing you!" Niall could feel the tears burning in his eyes as the boy continued to tear at his grip. How had this all gotten so fucked up?

 

Strong arms came to encircle Zayn from behind to hold him in place, and Niall relinquished his hold with a shaky breath.

 

"Zayn, stop," Liam murmured into the boy's ear. "There has to be another way. Nobody wins if we don't all get to walk out of here." Zayn ceased his struggle at the words, but Niall could see the tears shining in his eyes.

 

He turned back around to find Seline watching them with an amused expression.

 

"Oh, you boys really are too precious! I think I like you even better as a set. What do you say Simon?"

 

He gave out a low chuckle in response. "I say, not only can you not have 'the set', but you'll hand over the missing piece."

 

"Ugh, you're no fun!" She threw up her hands at this, walking back to the lounge and flinging herself down. "And quite terrible at this game. Can't expect to get back a piece without sacrificing a pawn after all. Even if you made it all the way to the other side of the board."

 

"Didn't know we were playing a game of chess my dear."

 

"Of course we are. We always are. For what else is there?" She stroked her hand through Louis' hair again, the boy having stayed just where she'd left him. "Especially now, since you've taken my dear Rodderick."

 

"I did not kill him. He took his own life," Simon said, his voice calm.

 

"Ah, but you might as well have held the knife! He was never the same after you took it all away." She seemed to crumble at that, all of her bravado falling away in one quick swoop and leaving behind nothing but a lost little girl.

 

Niall could almost have felt sorry for her, watching as she sat slumped down on her plush throne, her mirage of hanger-ons all around her. Well, almost, had Louis not been one of them.

 

"Oh, I grow so very tired of this," she said almost to herself and looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time, before her eyes settled back on them. Her next words came out soft and oddly detached: "Simon, you took something of mine, so I shall repay you in kind. And I think I'll start with this one..." A knife appeared in her hand then, as if out of nowhere.

 

And before any of them could move to intervene, she had plunged it in. Right into Louis' heart.

 

 

 


	34. Chapter 34

 

 

 

Louis let out a startled gasp as the knife tore into him. His mind hadn't yet caught up to what had happened, so he could only stare in horror at what must be a fatal wound. He could feel his heart still trying to beat around the cruel metal, each pulse just cutting in further. But it was odd, shouldn't there be more pain?

 

There was a commotion around him, but the room seemed to have gone silent. Or perhaps that was just him, as his ears were being filled with a roaring static. Crumbling to the side as his body started to fail him, he could feel his mind slowing as it became starved of oxygen, even with his frantic gasps. For, oh, what was this? The silence seemed deafening now, for his heart had stopped.

 

His vision started to swim as his body came to convulse, fighting against it. _So that's what it feels like_ , Louis wondered, suddenly oddly detached. His last vision was that of Harry kneeling before him, the look in his eyes a curious mixture of panic, anger, and what? Despair?

 

 _It's okay_ , he wanted to tell him, but his voice had long since failed him.

 

 

It had happened in a blur, so quick it had taken them all by surprise. But as the others remained caught off guard, Harry was already upon her. Years of serving as her pet had taught him as much, just how impulsive she could be.

 

With his hand at her throat he knocked her back against the cushions of her throne-like couch, enjoying the way her laugh turned into a chocked gurgle. But the laughter never left her eyes.

 

"You will die for this," he had time to hiss out, before hands roughly pulled him back. The hall was in a state of chaos around him, pets running for safety, guards being taken down by Simon's henchmen, but he didn't care, his eyes remaining on one thing only.

 

He struggled to free himself of the grip, ready to plunge back in and tear her to tiny little pieces before she could escape. A rage was filling him, one that he'd never felt so fully. It would be an easy thing, even with the years she had on him.

 

Something shifted in her eyes then and she didn't even seem to notice the mercenaries that came to restrain her. Others were corralling her pets out of the way now, but Harry paid them as little mind as she did. For he could feel it building in him, beckoning to overtake him, to the point where there would be nothing else left.

 

Her eyes widened as she felt it, her gaze still locked on his. "Oh love," she whispered out.

 

"Harry," came from whoever was restraining him. "Harry, if you do this now, it'll be too late for him."

 

Harry took a shaky breath, his body vibrating with his fury. He wanted nothing more than to end her, to feel her turn to dust by his hand... but he was right. He glanced over at the crumbled form beside her, the boy's life-blood soaking into the cushion and dripping to the floor.

 

All his rage seemed to wash out of him at the sight, only to be replaced by another kind of intensity; one even harder to deal with. He nodded quickly and Simon released him, moving to pull Seline away as Harry knelt down in front of Louis.

 

The boy looked at him, his eyes filled with confusion. His mouth was moving but no sound came out, yet Harry could make out the words. And he watched as his pretty eyes turned dull before him.

 

Harry blinked at the ceiling as the tears threatened to choke him. He needed to focus, but he'd never known a pain like this.

 

"Niall, Liam," he called out as he rubbed at his face. "To me."

 

Hurried steps, and they were by his side, their chocked gasp echoing his own.

 

"Keep him in there," he ordered as he went to remove the knife.

 

"But... " Niall let out.

 

"Just fucking do it. Use the threads, snare him, cage him in, whatever fuck, just keep him in there," he was shouting now, he knew, but the desperation of the moment left little room for tact.

 

 

Liam blinked at Niall, completely overwhelmed by this. But Niall just gave him a shaky nod before he closed his eyes. And Liam watched as his colors sprung forth, spreading out and searching. His eyes flew back to Louis, but there was nothing. Harry's instead were like a storm cloud before him, swirling around like lightning trapped in a bell jar. But Louis...

 

Niall grabbed his arm and he turned to look at him. His eyes were closed but he had tilted his head up now, and he followed his blind gaze. And there, close to the ceiling, he finally saw it quickly fleeing.

 

"No," he muttered out, knowing that feeling all too well still. How good it had felt to be free of it all, to watch it play out from above and slowly float away. But he couldn't let him. Just like they hadn't let him either. Steeling himself, he fought against his own uncertainty. He really didn't know if he could pull this off. But he had to, for him.

 

 

Zayn made his way across the hall slowly. His bodyguards had held him back at first, but as each one was quickly pulled away to the fray, he found himself alone. Stumbling towards his friends, his mind was numb. Bodies were already littering the floor, vampire or human, he couldn't tell. But they had come in the way.

 

He made his way next to Niall and Liam, their faces turned to the ceiling. He looked at them for a second in confusion before crouching down before Louis, and something inside of him stopped. That horrible feeling seized him, that realization that it wasn't just sleep, it was death.

 

Harry looked at him then, panic in his eyes. "We need to turn him, but I... " he looked over to his maker but he was busy keeping Seline in check while battling her guards. "I don't know if I can," Harry told him, as if he could supply the answer.

 

Zayn dropped down to his knees, the cold marble hard against his bones. "You have to Harry. You have to try," he murmured out, eyes on Louis' lifeless form.

 

Harry only nodded, his hands fumbling as he reached for Louis' arm. Zayn steadied it for him, and Harry nodded again as he went to bite into his own wrist. He laid it over Louis' heart before he leaned down to sink his fangs into the boy's skin.

 

Zayn remained where he was, watching as the boy drank and his blood soaked into Louis' chest. On and on it seemed to go, the look on Harry's face not one of enjoyment. The vamp let up, blinking against the tears in his eyes, before reopening his own wrist and laying it back onto the boy's torn chest.

 

And then he bent down again, biting into the wrist that Zayn was still holding.

 

He watched as it went on. Watched as Harry grimaced, his eyes squeezed together tight as if each swallow was a burden. He glanced over to find that his blood was at least doing its work, the awful wound starting to knit closed.

 

Harry let up with a pant, blood coating his mouth. "That should be enough," he wheezed, before bringing his healed wrist back to his mouth. Zayn winced a bit at how savagely the boy tore into it, before he shuffled closer to Louis and pressed it against his mouth.

 

"Come on come on," he heard Harry mutter as he went to place Louis' arm back on the couch. Zayn's hands came back bloody.

 

Nothing seemed to happen though, and the way that Harry's back was shaking wasn't doing much to reassure him. He looked back at the other boys, to find Liam staring back at him though his eyes looked oddly vacant. It sent a chill through him, one that quickly turned into a tremor.

 

Somewhere far away he could still hear the battle raging around him, but it seemed of no importance. The only thing he could feel was the cold of the floor as he sat down, coming to cradle his knees.

 

 

 


	35. Chapter 35

 

 

 

He dreamt of the edge of summer. That perilous point where the stagnation of the numbingly ever-pleasant was shifted by a subtle change in the air. An unexpected breeze where once had been only a warm sort of void; the kind so accommodating it felt as if there was nothing there at all. Like he was floating in space, adrift without hold.

 

But then the breeze would pick up again, making the leaves rustle in the trees around him, and it made him remember – that the season was changing, that time had passed, that he was still alive. And that time was running out...

 

As he walked amongst the falling leaves, he watched the autumn sun blinking through above him, warm on his skin. This had always been his favorite time of year, perhaps because it was so fleeting. One vicious storm front and it all would be gone, and a litany of never-light days would follow hallowed by barren branches.

 

But it made it all the sweeter somehow, this precious moment as brittle leaves crunched underfoot as he made his way. _Crunch crunch crunch_ they went, and he could smell it all around him. The earthiness, the sunlight, the decay. He was alone in these woods, but it felt alright somehow.

 

Though then, it all seemed to shift before his eyes. He stopped on his path to watch the leaves tumble to the ground in one fellow swoop. It might have been amusing had the trees not stood so empty before him now, grotesque shapes clawing towards the sky.

 

A fog was rising from the deep, coming up to choke the sun out of the sky. A coldness gripped him then, one that sunk down to his very bones. Looking around, all he could see was the expanse of it – trees, trees, and more trees, barren and blackened like ghastly skeletons caught in a fire.

 

A quiet breath escaped him as he took it in. Something beat through him, a warning, and he'd suddenly never felt more alone. Stumbling along the path it seemed to close in on him, shrubs and thorns tearing at him. He stopped again, looking around himself wildly. What was this? Was he dreaming? Or was this something else entirely? Was it.. _Oh god_ , he muttered to himself, _please please please no_.

 

The haze continued to thicken around him, blurring the path and making him stumble. Lifting a hand to feel his way, it seemed oddly pale to his dimming gaze. He brought it up to his face and watched as it seemed to become ever paler, to the point where it looked almost translucent.

 

He looked down on himself and his body seemed to be doing the same, slowly being sucked apart by the fog and engulfed by the darkness. Maybe it was just his sight slowly leaving him... but no, he could feel it. Fading. He was fading... his eyes slipped closed with a sob.

 

 

"We've got him," came a whisper, and Louis jerked up. It had grown almost entirely dark now and he spun around trying to find the source. Had he imagined it?

 

"Keep him in there," came another voice, and Louis could have laughed in relief. The darkness started to shift around him then and he could make out something coming towards him. What was it? He tried to focus on it, watching it blink in and out of existence like a star in a cloudy sky.

 

But there! He could see it more clearly now as it approached – a little ribbon of sparkling light, twirling and searching through the branches. It was quickly followed by another, and another, until the woods were filled with them like chains of holiday lights.

 

On and on they went, floating through the air in quick swishes and slow drifts, slowly encircling him. Louis blinked at them in wonder, it was probably the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

 

Something came to press on his chest then, and he looked down at himself, relieved he could once again see his own body. The presses went on in a steady rhythm as the threads came to surround him, locking him in a moving cage and keeping him in place as they slowly dragged him down. But he wasn't afraid this time, for he gladly went with them.

 

 

"Louis Louis Louis," Harry quietly murmured while he stroked his face. There had been no response so far, but he was still in there, the links told him so.

 

They had lain him out on a park bench after a pretty dramatic exit from Seline's stronghold. But Harry tried not to think of her... the fact that she still survived; it was unfinished business best kept for another day. Right now the only thing that mattered was seeing him through this. And to make sure he hadn't fucked it all up.

 

The boys were around him, Niall force-feeding Zayn one of his pre-made sandwiches while Liam sucked on a donor bag the blonde had forced on him earlier. And him, sitting on the bench at the cliff of the look-out while Louis remained unconscious beside him.

 

It was the most perfect view out here really, one dreamt up for clandestine meetings between first-time lovers, to watch the skyline at their feet while they came to embrace. A flock of birds came to flutter by while letting out a trill, just to underscore the wrongness of this moment.

 

For he had killed him. Harry sat back against the wooden planks, the aftertaste of his blood still heavy on his tongue. Though to be fair, Seline had made the first irrevocable blow. But he'd taken the rest.

 

He shuddered at the memory of having to draw his dead blood out of his veins. Once the heart stopped beating it quickly turned bitter and sluggish, devoid of that essential spark. It had been all the more unbearable knowing it was Louis that he was pulling from – the one so full of life, the one he wanted to taste above all others – only to have his blood turn to ash in his mouth. His heart had broken with each pull.

 

If this had been Seline's intention, he almost had to applaud her. For she had succeeded, in whatever twisted way. He just hoped he'd have the chance to repay her in kind.

 

"So what now?" Niall's timid query brought him out of his thoughts. He looked up at the boy standing awkwardly before him and patted a free spot on the bench. Niall slowly slunk down, leaning against his body.

 

"We wait," Harry sighed out. The stars were bright in the sky and the night was warm. _There surely have been worse nights to die_ , he quietly mused to himself as he tugged an arm around Niall's shoulder, and the boy nestled against him.

 

 

Liam stood staring at the view, his mind still not having truly caught up with what had transpired. It had been a whirlwind of battle and blood and Louis... caught in the fray. And now here they were, camped out on some idyllic roundabout while they waited... for what? For Louis to change? His swallow caught in his throat as it struck him. Was this really it? Would he change like he'd been changed? He looked at Zayn, trying to look past the life-blood running through his veins and the pounding of his heart, trying to see him instead. If this was true, then the boy was the last one of them left. The last one still alive.

 

Zayn looked up at him then, as if reading his turmoil. "Come sit," was all he said, and Liam found himself slinking down at his feet.

 

"I'm... I'm... " Liam tried to say, but somehow couldn't get much further.

 

"I know," Zayn cut him off, shuffling down to slide his arms around him. Liam let out a startled huff before relaxing back into him.

 

 

Daylight broke, and there was no change. Cars passed by but none of them stopped, probably giving this look-out up to a bunch of teenage boys up to no good. If they only knew... Zayn dryly chuckled to himself and watched as the sun slowly made its way across the sky.

 

Niall had made a grocery run at some point, coming back with a hot meal for him, and booze, lots of booze.

 

Simon had stopped by while he'd been gone, checking on Louis before quietly pulling Harry aside. He'd tried to listen in but couldn't make out a thing they'd said. Harry just seemed to nod a few times before making his way back to the bench. He'd left them with orders not to move him and then to make their way back. And with that he'd been gone again, probably busy cleaning up the mess they'd made.

 

Zayn looked down at the take-out before him, finding that it had grown cold in his hand. He quickly placed it under the bench before Niall could swoop in to force-feed him again. His hands reached into his coat instead to pull out his kit. If there had ever been a moment to get baked, this one certainly qualified.

 

The curl of the smoke wafted through the air, and his eyes followed it lazily, watching it twirl and spiral before dissolving all together. The high hit him slowly, a mellow warmth in his stomach and he leaned back with a sigh.

 

He passed it down to Liam who was leaning against his legs, and got a bottle passed up in return.

 

A slow sip and he cradled it against Louis' feet on his lap before leaning back again. Time stretched on as they waited and none of them spoke. There was nothing left to say.

 

 

Something woke him up, though he couldn't say what. Zayn blinked around to find that dusk had fallen while he'd nodded off. He looked around at the boys to find them in similar positions. Niall had lain down on the ground with his head on Liam's thighs while he remained pressed against Zayn's legs. He shifted a bit, grimacing at how the wooden planks had dug into his bones.

 

"Zayn," came Harry's voice and he looked over at him. He still had the boy's head in his lap and was quietly stroking his hair. "If... if this works... he'll need to..."

 

Zayn only nodded, shifting Louis' legs to the bench as he stood up. Liam grumbled as he was jostled and rubbed at his eyes, the motion waking up Niall as well.

 

"Is it time?" the boy mumbled out groggily.

 

They came to stagger around the boy who still looked like he was just sleeping peacefully, wrapped in Harry's jacket. Well, except for the traces of blood they hadn't managed to wipe away.

 

Harry hummed at this, his eyes locked on the boy's face. The last of the sun's rays slipped behind the mountains and they remained standing, the tension thick in the air.

 

Zayn could hear his own breaths in his ears, each swallow becoming painfully loud. What if this didn't work? he thought frantically to himself, his heart starting to beat a little quicker in his chest as he stood there, looking down at his friend.

 

"Uhm..." Liam let out a quiet cough and edged away from him. Harry looked up at this.

 

"Liam, go hold his feet," he softly ordered. "Niall you know what to do," he nodded at him, and the blonde knelt down before them. "Zayn, up here with me."

 

He came to stand at the head of it, a little distance away. His heart was still hammering in his chest as he looked down at him, searching for any kind of change.

 

Darkness had set in fully now, the only light coming from the stars and a sliver crescent of the moon.

 

Harry hummed again as he ran his palm along the boy's cheek.

 

Silence.

 

Zayn shifted a bit, before sliding down to sit on the ground.

 

More silence.

 

Harry hummed again, his fingertips running along the boy's jaw and over his lips.

 

Zayn fidgeted with his pant leg, coming to encircle his knees. This waiting was excruciating. His eyes had just slid to the skyline again, when a sound made them snap back.

 

A wheezing gasp and the boy's body arched off the bench. Zayn jumped up, but Harry motioned him to stay in place. Niall and Liam came to hold Louis' limbs down.

 

Another gasp, and then a drawn out whine. Zayn could feel a shiver go through him at the sound, watching Louis' face scrunch together in pain.

 

Tremors were starting to rack through the boy's body now and he let out a wailing scream. Zayn's heart was back to doing triple time.

 

"Hush, Louis, it's okay. You're okay. Just let it," Harry was murmuring to him, holding his shoulders in place.

 

Louis let out another scream, panting heavily while he twisted and shook beneath them. His eyes were still squeezed shut while his hands came to clench and release.

 

Zayn took a tentative step closer, swallowing against the agony the boy must be experiencing. This whole turning thing really didn't seem to be that good of a time.

 

"Louis Louis," Harry continued to murmur soothingly to him. "Don't fight it. Just let it go."

 

 _Yeah, no worries mate, you're just dying... again_ , Zayn grimaced to himself. Because that's what it was, wasn't it? Whatever this process was it seemed to involve a reanimation and then a take-over from... well, whatever this whole vampire thing was.

 

Louis let out another blood-curdling scream, which probably could be heard all the way down in the valley. Good thing the road was so long and twisted, it would take the cops a little while to actually find them. Zayn shifted nervously on his feet, quietly muttering to himself.

 

"It isn't usually like this, you know," Harry was saying now, still with the same soothing tone while Louis twisted and convulsed beneath his hands.

 

Liam shot him a glance as he tried to keep the boy's legs in place, half-buried memories of his own turning being reawakened by Louis' agony.

 

"You're... you're not actually supposed to be dead... you know," Harry let out with a sigh. "It's a miracle this is working at all."

 

Louis was openly weeping now between pants, but the tremors through his body seemed to be growing less, replaced instead by a series of twitches. Zayn took another step closer, holding onto the back of the bench for support.

 

"Hey, hey..." Harry was saying now, stroking the boy's face again. "Louis, can you hear me?"

 

Zayn watched as Louis slowly cracked open his eyes, looking glassy and blood-shot and terribly frightened. He let out another chocked gasp as another tremor hit him, his eyes squeezing closed again.

 

"You're doing so good."

 

Louis looked up at him again, panting against the quakes. "Harry..." he croaked out, before another cry escaped him. "What..."

 

"Shhhh," he soothed. "Almost done." Louis looked up at him in confusion as a convulsion came to seize him, chocking his scream half-way through. Zayn looked on with tears in his eyes as the boy sagged onto the bench, the life seeming to drain out of him.

 

"Zayn, you're up." Harry told him without turning his head.

 

He wiped at his face as he shakily made his way around, tumbling to his knees before them. Harry nodded and he held up his wrist, watching numbly as the vamp bit into his tender skin. He didn't even feel it though, his eyes on Louis.

 

Harry placed his bleeding wrist over the boy's mouth, holding it open for him.

 

Zayn watched in a daze as his own blood dripped down, watching those red rivulets disappearing into Louis' mouth. _Drip drip drip_ it went. The silence was back, as was the rushing in his ears.

 

Nothing for a long moment, and then the bob of an Adam's apple. Harry held his wrist in place and there came another swallow. Zayn had to swallow in response, his heart beating furiously again. He could never get used to this.

 

A beat, or two or three, or five – the rate of it too quick for him to count – and out came another gasp as Louis' body arched off the bench again. Harry quickly pressed his wrist closer against the boy's mouth, and now Zayn could feel it. The pull.

 

He clung onto a plank with his free hand as he braced himself against it. Pulling and pulling now, one of Louis' hands coming to hold him in place as well.

 

"Niall, get some bags," Harry let out beside him, and Zayn had to let out a whimper in thanks. Because he knew he wasn't going to be enough for him. It had taken him and Louis when Liam was turned after all.

 

He was starting to get lightheaded as it went on, blinking at Louis' face. His eyes were still closed but his mouth continued to work him. When he let out a moan he knew what was coming next.

 

Louis' grip on his wrist tightened, and his eyes shot open with another whine through his nose. Zayn stared back at him, watching his eyes blacken with need. And just like it had been with Liam, a tongue came to lick at his wound, caressing it before slick fangs came to run along it. Zayn let out a shiver, his nostrils flaring as his bottom lip quivered. But he nodded anyway.

 

And Louis bit down and completed the transition.

 

 

"Okay, enough," Harry was saying next to him after a long moment, disentangling him from the vice grip and quickly replacing it with a bag.

 

And Zayn found himself slowly lifted by strong arms and pulled into an embrace. He curled into it, not able to hold back the sobs as he hid his face in Liam's shoulder.

 

 

 


	36. Chapter 36

 

 

 

Some days started out in such a dismal way that they warranted a joint right from the get go. Or at least that's what he told himself as he lit up before breakfast.

 

Holding it in, he squinted at the overcast sky that made no effort to grow lighter. And it probably wouldn't, just another one of those odd between-days that only went from dark to less so and back to dark again. If it weren't for the clock in the kitchen he wouldn't even have known that it was morning.

 

A slow exhale, and another toke. His hand shook a little as he brought it up to his lips, the hit a bit heavy on an empty stomach. He probably should have bothered to eat something at some point, but he hadn't felt hungry. A shiver, and he drew his jacket around himself more tightly. It was cold out on the porch, the morning fog sliding over his skin only a fraction away from freezing.

 

But he'd needed to get out of that place. It was even darker inside, whoever having designed it apparently a firm believer in short-changing the electricity bill. Candles and strategically placed 20-watt bulbs it was, making day and night blur into one.

 

Another toke, and his hand stopped shaking.

 

 

"Hey," came a voice and the screen door snapped shut. Zayn cracked open an eye before letting his head fall back against the wood of the swing. The high was coursing through him, taking away the tension and replacing it with those delicious tingles... warm mellow waves through his stomach and along his groin; the dull fuzz of the lock on his brain, keeping it all mercifully silent. He just wanted to let himself float, to revel and rejoicing in it. What he really didn't want to do right now was talk.

 

But he persisted, taking a seat on the swing next to him. Zayn brought the joint to his lips, only to find that it had long gone out. Flicking on his lighter again, soft hands came to take it from his grip.

 

"Zayn..." he said, looking down at the half-finished blunt. Zayn looked at him briefly, but instantly regretted it. Casting his sight to the sea instead to watch those stormy waves, he heard the flick of his lighter.

 

A deep inhale, and then a shaky breath out. "Zayn..." he started again. "Zayn... I'm sorry."

 

He let out a snort, followed by a laugh. And realized he was probably a little too high to be having this conversation. He glanced over at the boy but he only had his eyes trained on the ground, bringing the joint back to his mouth.

 

"Why should you be sorry? It's not your fault," Zayn got out, his tongue feeling sluggish around the words.

 

Because it really wasn't, at least not his. If anyone should be on this porch trying to apologize it should be Harry. The catalyst. The one that had brought them all into this mess when he kidnapped Louis. But it would seem he was just too busy right now. Busy with his new charge that he'd taken to following around like a puppy.

 

Zayn let out another laugh, before groaning at himself. Memories of the drive back flooded to him, the intense awkwardness. Him in the backseat, at the window this time, Niall riding bitch with Liam beside him.

 

It had obviously been the safest seating arrangement, all things considered. Though Louis had looked back at him once or twice, his nostrils flaring before jerking his head around again and going back to trying to ignore him.

 

And Zayn couldn't deny the thrill that had gone through him each time, together with the gritty flush of fear. He'd kept staring at his profile the entire ride, trying to come to terms with what had happened. With what he was now.

 

But try as he might he just couldn't separate what he knew with what he should know. It had been the same with Liam. Maybe it was his mind's way of protecting him, to keep from falling down that slippery slope all the way to insanity.

 

For in his mind's eye, they were still the same. His best friends. The ones he had known since what seemed like forever. The ones he'd hung out with way too late grumbling about girls and whatever over greasy pizza and lame-ass movies and terrible video games. The same ones that had talked him into a camping trip to go surfing even though he hated the outdoors and couldn't swim...

 

And he had agreed, because they were his friends, because they were the kind of guys that would always be there for him, that he could talk to about anything... everything. Sure they might make jokes and tease him about it, but he could tease them right back in kind. That's what true friends were to him – no need to walk on eggshells and sensor yourself in fear of causing offense.

 

Zayn let out a slow exhale, feeling his hand shake again as he took back the joint. A quick toke, and it was dead. It burnt his fingertips as he went to smother it in the ashtray.

 

"I know," his friend continued leaving Zayn trying to reconnect the dots of this conversation. _Oh right_ , he somehow felt responsible for this entire thing...

 

"I... I... just can't imagine what this must be like for you right now," he went on.

 

Zayn heard another chortle escape him. He ran his hands over his face, brushing along stubble he hadn't seemed to give the fuck to shave off recently. Running his hands all the way up to his hair, he knew he only disheveled it further. He was a mess for sure, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to care.

 

"Liam," he voiced, trying to steel himself and be in the present moment for once. He looked over to find those downtrodden puppy-dog eyes staring back at him. _Fuck_.

 

Training his eyes on the chipped paint on the porch's ceiling instead, he tried to go on, "Liam... it's not your fault. _Really_. And you don't have to worry about me. I'm not the one who... who... I don't know, _fuck_ , got changed into another species?!" His voice hitched at those words, an odd lump in his throat.

 

Liam remained silent beside him, and he took a few slow breaths in and out before daring to glance back at him. He found the same expression in his eyes – worry and concern.

 

" _Fuck_ , Liam," Zayn let out with hiss, a tremble coming out of nowhere to rake up his sides. "I... I just..." he was trying to keep himself in check but the weed was bypassing his self-sensors and the words came tumbling out:

 

"I just feel like I've lost you, both of you," he felt Liam stiffen by his side at his words, but he went on, "Like we were friends, to the end and all that crap, but now, you're someplace else. You're... something else. And I'm... well, I'm... nothing really. I don't belong. I don't belong here. I don't belong here with you anymore," he trailed off, his high suddenly vaporizing to leave a dull pressure on his chest.

 

"Zayn..." Liam let out again, but he ignored him, trying to blink away the obnoxious fluid that was blurring his view of the ocean.

 

"Zayn..." an arm came to drop on his shoulders, and he tensed against the contact.

 

"We're still here," Liam whispered along his neck, and he tried to curtail the shiver as he watched another wave crescent offshore into a whitecap and crash down into the darkness.

 

"And I know this is fucked up," he murmured against his skin and Zayn had to close his eyes.

 

"But... we need you... I need you..." an inhale along his neck and Zayn tried to keep his breathing under control.

 

"It wouldn't be right... it would never be the same... without you," Liam ended, letting out a deep exhale that washed over Zayn's skin, making another tremor move through him, but for a different reason this time.

 

Zayn slowly turned his head, finally daring to look back into his eyes. They were soft and open, and filled with... _of fuck_.

 

"Liam... I... " Zayn licked his lips, his throat suddenly dry.

 

He took a shaky breath in, feeling his world complete its crumble around him and resurrect from the ashes to become something else entirely...

 

 

As the old question went: _If all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you_?

 

Zayn bit back a sob, looking into his friend's eyes. He suddenly knew the answer to that, however trite:

 

 _Of course, because otherwise... I'd miss my friends too much_.

 

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

 

 

 

Niall stood at the window worrying his lip. He was trying to stay out of sight and keep from intervening, because he knew that they needed this little moment together to try to patch up their bond in whatever ways it could still be glued back together. Yet he still needed to keep an eye on his charge, for if anything went wrong he'd never forgive himself.

 

"What are you doing here? Where's Liam?" Harry's slow drawl rang out as he sauntered into the foyer; Louis at his back.

 

Niall nodded towards the porch where they could make out the shapes of the two boys sitting on the swing.

 

"I just thought they needed some time alone. I'm keeping an eye on it, no worries."

 

"Okay, but keep close. We're going for a walk."

 

Niall just nodded again as the boy opened the door.

 

 

The sound of the door slamming shut jerked Zayn out of his thoughts again. They had fallen into silence while sitting there, the day drawing ever colder around them.

 

"Liam, Zayn." Harry nodded at them before walking down the steps. Zayn's eyes were glued to Louis, but he only gave him a quick glance before looking away again and following behind, his shoulders drawn up tight.

 

He let out a sigh and went back to staring at his hands.

 

Soft sounds of their retreating footsteps and it all fell into stillness once again.

 

 

"Zayn..." Liam let out after a little while, and he stiffened.

 

"Do you remember," he went on, his voice deep, "like, at the very start of all this, when Lou had gone missing and we were stumbling through the woods trying to find him, and you ended up tripping over this log or whatever and fucked up your knee and you were bleeding all over the place..."

 

Zayn let out a snort, recalling the ridiculousness of that whole quest. He remembered being high as fuck and trying not to stare at Liam's naked torso the whole time after the boy had sacrificed his shirt for his busted knee.

 

"Yeah..."

 

"Well, there's something I never told you."

 

"What?" his voice came out with a laugh, but he was all kinds of confused right now.

 

"Well, you were sitting there in the dirt cradling your leg, tears in your eyes–" Zayn let out a huff at this, but Liam went on, "and I just remember thinking thank god they didn't take him instead."

 

Zayn let out another snort.

 

"I know this sounds terrible, and you know I love Louis like a brother and err... I guess a brother with benefits – okay, that just sounds horribly wrong but you know what I mean. Point is, in that moment I realized as much as I was freaking out about Lou it would have been so much worse if it had been you. I don't know what I would have done..."

 

Zayn tried to swallow, but somehow found himself unable to. He wasn't a romantic by any means, and the shit they'd done together in this drug-fueled adventure had somehow been enough for him. Enough, because he'd believed it was all that he'd ever be able to get and didn't let himself think of anything more. But now to have these words spoken aloud to him, he didn't know how to respond.

 

"Liam..." he let out a sigh, bringing a fresh joint to his lips to seal it. "You don't have to do this. You know, to convince me to stay." He flicked his lighter on and squinted as the smoke burnt his eyes.

 

"I... I'm not trying to convince you," Liam's voice sounded confused, desperate, but Zayn just let his head fall back against the swing.

 

"Sure... so you're telling me you've had a hard-on for me this whole time, but you're just now telling me because...?"

 

Silence followed, and Zayn took another toke, the joint once again unsteady in his hand.

 

 

"It's beautiful, isn't it," Harry murmured out while looking at the sea. They had taken a little walk and were now standing at the edge of the cliff with the wind pushing against them in every which way.

 

"Yeah, yeah it is," Louis said, watching the waves crash against the rocks beneath them, the very sight of the long drop down making the arches of his feet tingle.

 

"I like to come here sometimes, and just watch it. It's just so heavy, isn't it? So eternal. Something that has been going on since the very start, and will even after... " He looked at him then, and Louis returned his gaze.

 

"Yeah," he let out, dropping his eyes back onto the waves pounding against the cliff.

 

They remained there, hearing the roar of it, feeling the salty spray wash against their skin, the furious wind tearing at their clothes. It was nature, life, in its most primal form, there to remind him of just what he had forsaken.

 

Tears were in his eyes and he blinked them away, telling himself it was just the chill in the air.

 

"When I was turned," Harry whispered out, and he had to strain to catch it, "I didn't feel much of anything. Seline had seen to that. And then I guess Simon realized it was better to block it all out. It was for the best I guess, who knows what sort of monster I would have become..." He raised his head and gave him a self-deprecating smirk, but Louis couldn't return it.

 

"So I went on, day after day, with only vague memories of what I had lost. My mum, my sister. But it all didn't really seem to matter anymore. I went back after... after I was safe. To see them. But it was more like a dream I'd once had, it didn't feel real. My old neighborhood, my house, my school. It might as well have been the set of someone else's life. And besides, it was too late then anyways. My mum was dead and my sister had moved on."

 

Louis looked up at this, searching his face. But he had turned it away from him with his jaw set tightly.

 

"It had been too long I think," Harry went on, as if speaking to himself, "They'd probably long since given me up as dead, and accepted it at being so. I don't think she even recognized me at the funeral."

 

Louis felt his newly-dead heart give an odd swoop, thinking of his own family – his mum, his sisters, what they must be thinking right now. Were they worried? Were they out there looking for him? Or had Simon stopped by to spin them a tale? And if so, what was it? One that left them with the hope that at one point he would return?

 

The wind picked up as if to underscore his troubled thoughts, the salty spray no longer excuse enough for the liquid in his eyes.

 

He never knew that it could hurt this much – the realization that there was no going back. That this wasn't just a trial-run and that he could always return when he needed to. Back to the comfort of his old room in his home to get his head back on straight until his next adventure.

 

No, because this was it. Up and at it and away. Away from them. With the knowledge that at some point they would die and he wouldn't be there. And then he would have to go on without them; a little more empty, a little less.

 

Louis felt a shiver run through him as he blinked against the sky.

 

"Lou, do you trust me?" Harry's voice brought him back and he tried to clear his vision as he looked at him. The boy had stretched out his hand palm-up before him, and Louis stared at it for a long moment before glancing back at Harry. The wind was tousling his curls, making his hair look comical even though his expression was anything but.

 

"Uhmm," he let out, looking back at the hand that was still being offered. Reaching up slowly, he laid his hand over it, feeling fingers coming to squeeze tight. His palm tingled a bit at the contact.

 

Harry gave him a smile and Louis had just opened his mouth to ask him why, when there came a pull on his arm. And before he could process it he found himself flying... no, falling... over the edge of the cliff – Harry's hand still tight in his grip.

 

 

 


	38. Chapter 38

 

 

 

"Did they just... " Zayn had jumped up, squinting at the spot where Harry and Louis had disappeared from. The porch door swung open behind him and Niall stormed out cursing to himself.

 

"Niall, I think they..." he turned to look at the boy, expecting him to be in a state of panic but he seemed more annoyed than anything.

 

"Yeah, I know, he's done that before," the blonde let out with a huff. "Come on inside, I need to grab them some supplies."

 

Zayn looked at Liam, who was still staring at the cliff with his eyebrows drawn together. It seemed crisis management wasn't the boy's strong suit, but then again he'd already known that. At least he wasn't flailing around this time... at least not yet.

 

"Come on Liam," he said, pulling at his wrists to get him to stand up and be dragged inside. He allowed himself to be led, but his eyes remained on the spot Harry and Louis had jumped from.

 

"Why did they...?"

 

"No clue, but I guess Niall's dealt with this before. Just hope it doesn't involve reattaching body parts." Zayn shuddered to himself at the thought, and then got oddly curious. Just what were the limits to this vamp thing anyway? What if the head got separated... his train of thought stopped when he looked over at Liam, not wanting to picture that scenario happening to him. Just the thought was making him oddly queasy.

 

Swaying a little on his feet, the inside of the house suddenly felt a little hot as he stood there. The change in temperature was probably a little too abrupt, especially with the amount he'd smoked. And shit, he still hadn't eaten anything.

 

The periphery of his vision was starting to darken and he just had time to let out: "Liam..." before it all went black.

 

 

Louis hit the water with a rough splash, making it feel more like crashing through a sheet of ice than anything else. Half his body was stinging with the impact while the other was screaming at the abrupt cold he was now submerged in. Struggling to reach the surface, he found his hand still being tightly clasped. It would probably be a lot easier to swim up with the use of both hands but Harry wouldn't let go.

 

Surfacing with a gasp and a cough, followed by a wheeze, he tried to tread in place amongst the waves. Harry bobbed up beside him, looking like a drowned cat.

 

"What the fuck Harry?" Louis yelled out over the roar. "Why did you do that? We could have broken to a thousand pieces on those fucking rocks!"

 

Harry just grinned at him and he sent the boy a glare, before they were both pulled back under by another wave.

 

Coming back up with a splutter, Louis tried to pull them back to shore before they drifted out too far, but Harry was pulling the opposite way.

 

"Harry, seriously, what the fuck." Louis could feel his temper starting to boil over. He was cold and wet, being tossed around in the bloody ocean after being hurled over a freaking cliff without his consent.

 

"Lou," Harry laughed at him, his dopey grin doing nothing to better his mood. "Louis, lighten up." He tugged on their entwined hands. "You're a fucking vampire now. It's not like you can drown. Here, let me show you something," with that he let himself sink, pulling Louis down with him.

 

Oh hell no, Louis cursed, trying to pull against it. But the stupid fuck was too strong.

 

 

"Shit, what happened?" Niall nearly dropped his supplies as he returned to the foyer. Liam was standing there, cradling a passed-out Zayn in his arms.

 

"I don't know, he just kind of blacked out," Liam mumbled, the worry heavy on his face.

 

"He probably overdid it with the weed. And, fuck, when was the last time he ate?" Niall muttered.

 

"I... I don't know," Liam let out, as if this was somehow his fault.

 

The blonde ran a hand through his hair, silently cursing himself. Seeing the boy dangling there in Liam's arms made it even more apparent just how thin he'd gotten. And how disheveled. All warning signs that something wasn't right... how had he not noticed? Guess he'd been too wrapped up in making sure Liam was okay, and Harry had been so focused on Louis that neither of them had noticed Zayn slowly slipping.

 

"Okay, wait here. I'm going to grab some stuff from the kitchen."

 

Liam only nodded, his head tilting to listen for the boy's breathing. Slow and steady it went, and he could feel his heart beating softly against his skin.

 

 

Louis struggled against the grip pulling him down, his mind panicking as the burn in his lungs increased. It grew ever stronger along with his movements which were becoming more desperate. Harry just continue to grin at him, coming to clasp his other hand as well.

 

He wanted to scream at him, but that would be a little counterproductive beneath the waves.

 

Stronger and stronger the burn grew, the need to breathe becoming so urgent he could barely keep from sucking in a lungful of water. He needed to breathe. Struggling against him again, he tried to plead for it with his eyes. But Harry only looked back, calm and with a half-smile, his hair floating around his face.

 

Louis' body gave a twitch, and suddenly he couldn't hold out any longer. He let out a series of coughs, making the bubbles float along his face and letting the water into his lungs. The saltwater scorched as it was drawn in, flooding something that should only ever be filled with air. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the loss of consciousness, sure that it must come any moment now for they'd been under for way too long.

 

But it didn't. And slowly the pain lessened, his lungs just coming to feel oddly heavy.

 

He opened his eyes again to see Harry still grinning back at him as he floated in place. Louis could only gape at him before letting out a laugh, the sound most queer when carried by water.

 

Harry let out a laugh as well, a few stray bubbles escaping to float up to the surface. He let go of his grip then, coming to cradle the sides of Louis' face instead.

 

They looked at each other for a moment, before Harry lowered in to press his lips against his. The soft salty slide of them and a thrill shot through Louis. He hummed against the contact while moving his hands to grip the boy's waist, holding him tight. It was beyond bizarre to be doing this underwater, but that only made it all the more amazing.

 

Their legs intertwined as the kiss deepened, and they let themselves float beneath the waves. A beam of sunlight broke through the clouds above them, shining through the water like a sparkling beacon, but neither of them noticed, for their eyes had fallen shut to the sensation of the kiss.

 

Louis could feel the smile against his skin as the boy broke away to pepper his face with soft kisses. He ducked his head, letting him explore – along his cheek, down his jaw, over his forehead, and gently, oh so gently against his eyelids.

 

He blinked his eyes back open when he drew back, and his breathing would have stopped at the sight if he was still, well, breathing. Harry floating before him, the water all around him seeming to shimmer and glow. The boy took a hand away to point at something and Louis reluctantly tore his eyes away to follow the gesture.

 

And let out another laugh as he saw them. Dancing in and out of the streams of light was a swarm of little fishes, their silvery scales reflecting with each quick dash to and fro. They had come to surround them, swarming around like a living cage. It was beautiful.

 

He lifted his hands up to Harry's neck and drew him back in, reconnecting their lips in the midst of it all. A tongue brushing against his own, before a quick nip at his lower lip.

 

Something surged in him then, and he twirled them around in the water and disturbed their little fish friends. They swarmed around them as Louis hooked a leg around the boy's thigh, needing him closer.

 

The dull pain as his fangs descended; he still hadn't gotten used to that. But he opened his lips to brush them along Harry's jaw, delighting in the way they slid against his skin.

 

Harry twirled them around again and ran his hands through his hair while he bared his neck in permission. Louis slid his fangs down his neck as he tightened his grip. His cock was starting to throb in the confines of his jeans, something that was probably pretty remarkable considering the low temperature of the water. But then again, so was being down here at all.

 

And besides, the time for analyzing the impossibility of this moment would have to come later, because right now all he could think about was needing him closer. He shamelessly rutted against him as they continued their slow spin and he licked up his neck wishing he could taste his skin. Another kiss and his canines seemed to throb with the need of it, to sink into his skin and feel his blood against his tongue.

 

Harry let a hand trail down his side, coming to cup his ass and grind against him. And Louis just couldn't hold back any longer. Gripping his wet curls with one hand while the other clutched his shoulder, he sunk in – feeling Harry buck up against him as he pierced through.

 

Out it came, thick and heavy and mixed with the salt of the sea. And something exploded inside of him at the taste of it, the taste of Harry on his tongue. Like he could taste his soul through his blood, if such a thing could even be described. And his mind probably couldn't, lacking the words, but he could feel it, sense it, his heart singing out with it.

 

He continued to swallow him down and he felt Harry nuzzling at his neck in turn. A swift twinge and there came that familiar pull as the boy closed the circle.

 

Louis gripped him tighter at the feel of it, probably clawing at him, but it was the only response he could make as his senses threatened to overwhelm him.

 

Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined it being like this. The delight of the feed and the pleasure of the pull, combined at once into one intoxicating rush.

 

And to have him there with him, wanting him close, just as shamelessly rutting against him as he was. Louis could feel his hardness pressing into him and he longed to run his hand around it, to feel it heavy against his palm, but that would probably have to wait until they were back topside. He briefly drew back to let out a watery laugh which quickly turned into a moan as Harry adjusted his bite.

 

 _Holy shit_ , he threw back his head and mouthed to the shimmering light above them, letting himself float weightlessly at the rush, suddenly feeling like he was flying.

 

Harry spun them around again in the water, and Louis drew back in close, cradling the back of the boy's head as he went to bite once more into his neck.

 

 

 


	39. Chapter 39

 

 

 

Zayn woke up with the taste of blood in his mouth. He grimaced at it as he slowly sat up, rubbing the back of his hand over his lips.

 

"Yeah, sorry about that, but you looked like you needed a bit of a pick-me-up," Niall said as he offered him a steaming cup.

 

He sniffed the contents suspiciously as he cradled the mug in his cold hands. It smelled sweet, mixed with something else — Nutmeg? Clove?

 

"It's mulled wine. Good for keeping the blood warm... err," Niall flushed and let out an awkward laugh, "I mean, your body temperature up."

 

Zayn let out a snort and went to take a sip. It was better than he had expected, not too sweet and pleasantly spiced. It tasted of winter.

 

Taking another little sip, he finally glanced at his surroundings. They were back in the cave by the seaside, the one where the last time they'd... Zayn promptly miss-swallowed and had to let out a series of racking coughs.

 

Niall promptly stopped his poking of the fire-pit to run to his side.

 

"Zayn, are you alright? Can you breathe? Do you need anything?" The boy was hitting him awkwardly on his back, and Zayn tried to wave him away while starting to choke on laughs along with the coughs.

 

"I'm..." _cough_ "...fine..." _cough_ "...seriously..." a chuckle "...Niall, stop."

 

The blonde crouched down before him, sitting on his heels and scrutinizing him like an injured pet.

 

Zayn wanted to roll his eyes as he took another sip of his drink to clear his throat. "Seriously, I know I'm merely human, but I don't break that quick."

 

The vamp just pressed his lips together, before dropping his eyes to the floor. "But you nearly did," he mumbled out.

 

"What?" Zayn adjusted the cup in his hand as he looked at the boy.

 

"You... you don't remember do you. Back at the house? You passed out in the foyer and Liam had to carry you here." Niall glanced at him, chewing at his lip. "I'm sorry Zayn, I should have kept better watch. I know it's not easy with, well, everything..." he trailed off, unconsciously rubbing his wrist. "And.."

 

"Niall," he cut him off. "I just had a little too much to smoke man. I'm fine."

 

"But are you really?" His blue eyes seemed to pierce into him with their earnestness. Zayn had to drop his eyes as he sighed into his cup.

 

"I mean, I know this is probably not the time, or something for me to even ask, but have you thought about it? I mean, we could ask Simon..."

 

Zayn almost chocked on his drink again, and quickly placed it on the floor. He looked back up at the boy still crouched before him. Was he really asking...?

 

He drew a hand through his hair, frowning as his fingers caught in tangles. Really need to get a haircut, he grumbled to himself and had to let out another chortle at his line of thought. Niall was still looking at him, waiting for a reply.

 

He drew his arms around his knees, his eyes drawn to the fire that was slowly going out. It probably needed more wood. They really should go collect some before it was too late.

 

"No, I haven't," he finally said, watching as a small flame gave up the fight and flickered out. Only a few embers remained now, glowing softly. "It's... it's not something you really can think about, you know? It's... I don't... I don't even know how to make that kind of decision."

 

Niall hummed to himself, standing back up to save the fire. He stood there poking it for a bit, before he spoke, "I know, it's different when you have no choice. When it's turn or die. Or, like, when you have nothing left to lose..."

 

Zayn tilted his head, suddenly realizing that he'd never asked the boy why he'd been turned. Had he been on the verge of death as well? Or had it been for another reason?

 

"Niall..." he spoke to the boy's back as he stoked the flames. "How did you..."

 

The blonde stilled, letting out a sigh as his wooden poker caught flame. Trying to shake it out he only made it worse, and eventually gave it up for lost as he threw it into the pit.

 

"Ehm, it's not much of a story really. My parents got divorced, my dad was working all the time, I fell in with the wrong crowd, dropped out of school because I didn't see the point, blah blah... and then Simon found me, pretty much in the gutter. He'd been watching me for a while he said, which was kind of creepy. But he made the offer and I accepted. Though truthfully I was pretty wasted at the time and didn't really think he was being serious." Niall shrugged and nudged a loose stone back into place around the pit with his foot.

 

Zayn had to let out a snort, picturing Niall just going 'Sure, why not?' after being asked if he wanted to become a vampire.

 

"I'm still not sure what he saw in me though. Why he picked me, out of all of them. Sometimes I think it was mostly just for Harry, that he wouldn't be stuck here all alone."

 

Zayn picked his cup up again, though it had grown cold. It always came back to Harry didn't it?

 

 

Liam was making his way back from the woods with a pile of kindling in his arms when he saw them. They were walking up the narrow path of the cliff, drenched and dripping, but hand in hand.

 

"Hey," Harry called out to him while grinning like an idiot. Louis gave him a sheepish glance, though he looked like he was trying to bite back a grin of his own.

 

"Hey, we're in the cave," Liam nodded up the cliff where the soft glow of the fire could still be made out. Harry only nodded before dragging Louis along with what sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

 

Liam had to shake his head as he followed the pair. Harry certainly had some strange methods when it came to bonding. When he wasn't shoving them against walls threatening to tear their throats out, he was throwing them off cliffs. But hey, it somehow seemed to work...

 

 

"There you are!" Harry called out with a smile on his face. Niall and Zayn both looked up a bit startled, having gotten used to the mopey, quietly brooding Harry. Seeing him all but bounce on his feet in glee as he dragged Louis along beside him felt a little odd.

 

"Yes we are," Niall answered while standing up. "You should get out of those clothes. I brought you some robes."

 

"You should have seen it! It was amazing," Louis was still a little breathless as he pulled off his drenched shirt. "But I still can't believe you did that Harry, that was pretty insane."

 

Harry grinned to himself as he peeled his jeans off. "Don't remember you complaining by the end..."

 

"Well... yeah." Zayn watched the corner of the boy's lip twitch.

 

"How is... " Liam walked in, scanning the group before hastily dropped his bundle beside the firepit and rushing to his side. "Zayn! How are you feeling. Are you okay?" he blurted out in the same tone Niall had used. Zayn wanted to roll his eyes again.

 

"I'm fine," he ground out, avoiding his puppy-dog stare.

 

"Wait, what? What happened?" Harry tore his eyes away from Louis long enough to ask.

 

"Seems Zayn overdid it a little and passed out. He still hadn't woken up when we got here, so I had to give him a little blood."

 

Harry was now staring intently at him, even going so far as letting go of Louis' hand and walking over to him. He crouched down and gave him that same look — the one of worry and concern, tinged with pity.

 

"Zayn, are you..."

 

He let out a groan before the boy could finish the sentence. "I'm fine, seriously," came out perhaps a little louder than he'd meant to as he jumped to his feet. "You all don't..." he broke off as he started swaying on his feet again. _Fuck_.

 

"Here here, come sit back down, it's okay," Harry was cooing at him as if trying to calm a spooked pet. Zayn let himself be pulled back down onto the fur before the fire, and felt a dry laugh escape him at the absurdity of it all. There they were, four _vampires_ , standing around him like lost puppies while shooting him worried glances.

 

"Here, you need to eat something," Niall said to him softly and pressed a bowl into his hand together with a spoon.

 

Zayn took a deep breath and stared down at the stew in his hands. It had bits of carrots and turnips and whatnot, all cut into perfect little pieces, together with chunks of meat that looked like they'd been slow-cooked to perfection. It had probably taken hours for the boy to prepare... _a meal that Niall couldn't even eat_.

 

Something cracked in him then, and he placed the bowl down with a shaky hand before a sob escaped him. He fought against it, coming to hide his face in the crook of his elbow over his knees.

 

"Hey hey," came Harry's voice from his right.

 

"Zayn..." came Niall's from his left, a hand stroking up and down his back.

 

He let out a snuffle, before raising his head. Liam and Louis were standing a little away, though their faces showed that they were warring with themselves.

 

"I... I'm sorry guys," Zayn's voice was thick, and he brushed angrily at his face. "I... I just feel so... like, I don't know, the fifth wheel or something, and it's like, the crappy kind that'll barely get you to the shop." He let out a humorless laugh as he wiped his nose.

 

"Zayn, Zayn, look at me." Harry tilted his chin up with a finger. "I'm sorry for not taking better care of you."

 

Zayn let out a snort, trying to wrench his head away. Seriously, what did they think he was now, a little kid that needed constant hand-holding just to make it through the day?

 

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that," Harry went on in his slow drawl. "What I mean is..."

 

"What he means is," Louis talked over him, "that we've all been so wrapped up in our own stuff that we somehow forgot about you."

 

Zayn swallowed against the burning tightness in his throat that those words caused.

 

"But we didn't," Liam cut in. "We're still right here."

 

"I know that, it's just... I feel so..."

 

"Alone?" Harry murmured next to him, and Zayn pressed his lips together as he went to wipe at his face again.

 

"But you're not," Niall said to him, placing his arm over his shoulders. "You've got us now. For better or worse. 'til the bitter end and whatnot."

 

Zayn sniffed again, giving a slight nod. His mind was in turmoil, it all suddenly seemed to be too much.

 

"Come on, I think Zayn here needs a hug."

 

And with that he suddenly found himself in a dogpile with four vamps, all doing their best to squeeze and cuddle him half to death.

 

"Guys!" he let out with a laugh as hands came to tickle up his sides. He tried to wiggle away but they were essentially pinning him in place with their bro-love.

 

_click_

 

"Lou, was that you?" Harry let up his molestation to give him a glare.

 

"Uhmm, shorry?" Louis tried to lisp through fangs hidden behind his hand.

 

Harry shook his head in slow disapproval, "We'll have to up the training with you. Just look how good Liam is doing."

 

They glanced over at the boy, though he was looking a little guilty as well.

 

"Ah, fuck. Okay, other side of the pit for you two." Harry motioned them away. "Guess that leaves you to just the two of us for now."

 

Zayn stared up at the grinning faces of Niall and Harry peering down at him, before breaking back into giggles as they resumed their work. He lifted his head, finding Louis and Liam smiling back at him while rebuilding the fire.

 

He dropped back down with a sigh as hands came to tug at his jeans while another pair traced along his torso. He lifted up his hips to make it easier, but almost immediately dropped back down again as someone tweaked his nipple.

 

"Ahh!" he let out with a gasp and peered up into twinkling blue eyes gazing impishly back at him. His shirt was lifted and he let it slide over his head, coming to feel the fur underneath him along his bare skin. A warm hand wrapped around his cock and he let out a sigh. Stroking hands and the flicks of tongues and Zayn's eyes fluttered closed, content to just lie back and let them explore.

 

His mind tried to jump once or twice back to the question, but the flick of a tongue over his tip quickly extinguished it all. That decision would have to wait for another day.

 

Wet heat engulfed him and slid down, together with a delicious twirl of tongue. A firm hand encircled his base and gave a twist in tact with the bob up, while soft lips came to kiss along his throat.

 

Zayn let out a shaky breath, his hands searching for something to cling to while his legs writhed on the floor. _Fucking hell_.

 

 

Liam watched from the other side of the fire as the boy slowly came undone. Louis was nestled against his side, idly stroking his hand over his chest in careless swirls and brushes of fingernails. He let out a soft hum in turn, beginning to relax into the sensations when his eyes caught sight of something at the mouth of the cave. A quick streak, and then another, followed by a slow flutter of a fury of them — shimmering with reflective sparkles from the fire. It was snowing.

 

Tilting his head to the left, he kissed the top of Louis' head. It would be alright. They would be alright. In whatever twisted fucked-up way whatever this was, at least they were in it together. They had each other. And that was enough. It had to be.

 

Though strangely, as he sat there listening to Zayn's soft keens while watching the light of the fire throw its dancing shadows onto the walls, a half-forgotten lyric came to echo through his mind:

 

 

 

 _You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave_.

 

 

 


End file.
